


Ocean Blue

by VisceralViscaria



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (I hope I didn't actually need to tag that), Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Cannibalism, How do tags even work, I'm Sorry, Like really really slow, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ovoviviparous Birth, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, i'm just doing my own thing here, uh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:53:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralViscaria/pseuds/VisceralViscaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He looked beautiful, streamlined, elegant. And he was one of the most dangerous things that Will had ever seen. He was exactly what he appeared to be;</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A predator.</i>
</p><p>---</p><p>Merpeople AU where Will is a professor of Mermatology and Hannibal is a cannibalistic mer shark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sink or Swim - I

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god I'm so nervous uh. This is my first fanfic ever, so I'd like to go ahead and apologize if characterization is off or it's not all that good. :| ~~I'd also like to apologize for my summary because it's terrible.~~ Edit: I rewrote the summary. I think it's better now.
> 
> On that note, I'd love to hear constructive criticism! I've already got the whole thing plotted out, and originally planned to have around 10 chapters, but I've decided to split them up because the first was waaay too long and I can update faster. It might take a while because of school though. 
> 
> I'm not really expecting this to get much attention, but I'll still update because it's fun to write. Any support is appreciated! If you find mistakes, please tell me. I'll probably be editing little things every once in a while.
> 
> I'm trying not to bore, but I love world building so there's a lot of that in the beginning. Sorry, I guess. This is unbeta'd so far, but if anyone wants to volunteer that'd be cool. 
> 
> TL;DR: This is my first fic and it's unbeta'd so it probably sucks, but I'm doing it anyway and want criticism.
> 
> Edit: I've gotten two betas since I started! [Howishughdancyevenpossible](http://howishughdancyevenpossible.tumblr.com/) and [Attack_Iguana](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Attack_Iguana/pseuds/Attack_Iguana) have both been amazing, and I'd like to give them love and thanks for all they've done!

~~~

 

            The water swirling around him had to be cold, to make him shiver in place and get his teeth chattering as it did. He stared down at it, unconcerned; his skin had been numb to its bite for a while now. While he didn't know exactly how long he'd been standing there, he knew it wasn't anywhere near enough time for him to feel as cold as he did. Then again, the fact that he was naked probably didn't help.

 

            Will Graham was standing knee deep in the ocean, and though he didn't turn to look at the beach behind him he knew that he was alone. It was dark, so dark that even if he'd bothered to throw a glance over his shoulder the only thing that could've greeted him was an inky blackness so thick he'd choke on it. Above him, the sky was empty, barren of a moon or stars or even clouds for them to hide behind. It stood to reason that he should have been all but blind, but the gentle waves weaving in and out through his legs gleamed and reflected broken, shifting patterns of light. It was as if they had channeled their own personal moon and taken its light for themselves. He envied them for it; he couldn't see himself at all.

 

            In all honesty, he was grateful for that. Knowing his mind, he wouldn't like what he saw.  He'd distantly realized he was dreaming when he'd first seen the sky, a small mercy compared to the usual fare whenever Will finally gave in to his body's demands and slept. So far, things had been largely uneventful and a bit dull, but compared to the nightmares that kept him company most nights it was turning out to be almost pleasant. Will knew better, though. He didn't _have_ pleasant dreams.

 

            Sure enough, he suddenly felt something like a tug. He could only watch as his body stepped forward and slowly took him farther out to sea; he might have known that he was dreaming, but that didn't mean that he could control it (of course not, that would have been too _easy_ ). As the sand shifted beneath his feet and filled the gaps between his toes, the water steadily rose and sucked him down into its hungry jaws. It lapped at his thighs, then his waist, chest, and neck before a final wave crashed down over his head and the world went dark. Even then, Will could feel his body marching on, dragging him deeper and deeper into the ocean long after he'd been submerged. The pressure and movement, combined with the fact that the water was strangely warm, made him feel like he'd been swallowed by a massive animal and was sliding down its throat.

 

            At some point he became aware of something gliding through the water beside him, creating currents so strong he thought they'd knock him back. Whatever it was, it must have been huge. He no longer felt safe, and it didn't help that strange sounds were reaching out to him from the dark, whispering unfamiliar words into his ears that he couldn't understand and disorienting him. The ocean seemed to wrap itself around him and drag at his legs until he finally slowed to a stop.

 

            All was quiet, and his hair bobbed and swayed in the wake of his mysterious companion. It tickled his skin as it brushed across his forehead and the tops of his ears. It was because of this that he didn't notice the first touch, thinking the prickling at the base of his neck was caused by the drifting strands. But as the touch strayed further down, tracing along his spine and lingering on his ribs, he couldn't hold back his shivers and knew he was no longer alone. As though it knew he'd realized this, the thing grew bolder and its tentative touches moved to his front as well until he was being caressed on all sides.

 

            He'd been flinching away from the exploring tendrils as much as he could, but when he felt one reach up and grasp his jaw he froze. This one felt eerily similar to a hand, familiar yet so wrong. The words still pushing against his eardrums grew louder, and slowly he was able to pick out certain things until they snapped into clarity with dizzying speed. They washed over him, telling him terrible, horrible secrets. Some of them were his own, but others belonged to people he knew, the few people he could call his friends. 

 

            Will didn't want to hear this, and would have covered his ears if he could move his arms. The fact that he didn't know if they were real, picked up by his subconscious and filed away until now, or fake and kept by his mind all the same only added to his dread. He was almost relieved when they stopped telling lies or secrets and shifted into descriptions of murder and gore, weaving together vibrant stories of the atrocities of man. At least he was used to those.That feeling was quick to desert him when the voices first said his name and then twisted the stories until he was the one committing crimes. His mind reconstructed the scenes with perfect accuracy even as his stomach tied itself into knots, a feeling of malevolent glee spreading through him and clashing with his revulsion. He tried to reject it, shaking his head as much as he was able and squirming in his unknown captor's grasp.

 

            The tendrils tightened their grip and the hand on his jaw started to slowly pry his mouth open. He panicked, grinding his teeth together to the point of causing pain, and suddenly became hyper aware of the fact that he was at the bottom of the sea. The previously ignored pressure doubled, crushing him. His lungs burned in his chest as he remembered just how long it had been since his last breath, and he began thrashing in earnest, desperate to find air.

 

            The hand working at his mouth finally succeeded and his jaw popped open with a crack that reverberated back to him through his bones. A mixture of water and the thing itself pushed their way in past his lips, but still he refused to breathe and suck them further in. He felt its irritation with him grow, but it only served to encourage him and Will's stubborn streak flared up in this tiny act of rebellion. He shoved his extreme discomfort to the back of his mind and focused on closing his mouth and throat to the creature. He regretted it when all of the voices came together in a loud hiss and the tendrils constricted around him, joining his body's demand for oxygen to create a searing agony that had him seeing red. As the pressure grew both in and outside, something within him broke. He gave up, and took it all in with a gasp. His body flooded as the voices shrieked their victory and his defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are seven parts to the first chapter.


	2. Sink or Swim - II

~~~

 

            Will flung himself forward, panting as his alarm clock’s shrill beeping filled the room. Scrubbing at his face with his hands, he leaned back against the headboard and waited for his pulse to slow and return to some semblance of normal. The fabric of his shirt was slick with sweat and clung heavily to his back and shoulders. He quickly shrugged it off and flung it to the side, tiny goose bumps prickling across his skin as it met the cool air and dried. The adrenaline slowly faded from his system and confusion edged in to take its place. Frowning slightly, Will replayed the dream in his head. It made no sense; with a water attribute as strong as his, the ocean should _never_ be a source of fear.

 

            Attributes were found in pairs and tended to be relatively elemental in nature, the most common being the basics; water, fire, air, and earth. There were smaller sub-categories with attributes connected to these, like wind, wave, rock, or smoke, but it was rare to find them with the matching basic. Rarer still were the vague attributes that seemed to connect more with the idea of elements than the elements themselves; light and dark were slightly simpler, but others like void, magnetism, gravity, and radiation were extremely complicated. The further an attribute was from the basics, the harder to interpret and understand. Vague attributes carried unpredictable results, even when paired with a basic. Things only got weirder when they ended up with a sub-category or, god forbid, _another_ vague.

 

            This mattered because of the way they affected people. Almost like a horoscope with better accuracy, attributes could be used to guess at personalities and skills since they came with certain traits. Even then, they were wildly unreliable as gauges because of the nearly infinite number of ways they presented themselves and their varying strengths. The stronger the attribute, the more difficult it was to control. It still wouldn't have been too important if the problems were only internal, but due to their elemental natures the outside world was affected as well. 

 

            People working with their attributes were more energized, focused, and happier overall. The environments they worked in benefited too, and depending on the strength of the attribute, living things interacting with those elements would thrive, sometimes creating unintentional shifts in the ecosystem. In the case of an unusually strong attribute, flora and fauna were willing to endanger themselves to approach once they felt its pull, even going as far as protecting the one to call them in the first place. It was mutualism at its finest, a delicate balance struck between man and nature. 

 

            Or at least it was _supposed_ to be, until someone lost control and accidentally caused an explosion in wildlife populations. But that was, thankfully, a rare occurrence as most people's attributes were moderate at best and virtually non-existent at worst. They tended to have just enough strength to make them feel connected with their element; being surrounded by your attribute was the most comfortable feeling in the world. It didn't _get_ any safer.

 

            Which made him wonder why his nightmare had involved water in the first place.

 

            Eventually, a wet nose pushed against his hand and pulled him out of his thoughts. Winston, the shaggy, brown stray he had found wandering on the road a few weeks ago, was snuffling at his palm incessantly. Will smiled gently as he scratched behind his furry companion's ears. The smile slid off his face when he caught sight of the time. He stood with a sigh, pausing to stretch until his back popped before moving toward his kitchen. He had seven hungry, energetic dogs to feed and he was already running late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here comes the world building.


	3. Sink or Swim - III

~~~

 

            "When trying to catch one of nature's best killers, do you assume the perspective of predator, or prey?"

 

            Will leaned back against his desk and briefly scanned the faces of his students, pleased to note that they remained focused even as the day neared its end. He'd left his home in Wolf Trap and made the hour long drive to Quantico that morning in a rush, arriving with just enough time to set everything up for the day's lesson on merfolk. 

 

            The decision to teach at the FBI Academy hadn't been particularly difficult to make, but trying to choose between working with the familiar topic of mermatological science or starting fresh in behavioral analysis had had him wishing he could just tear himself in two. For most of his life he'd stuck to mermatology, but he was uniquely qualified for both fields. He had his attributes to thank for that. 

 

            Not only did he have a ridiculously strong water attribute that made living as close to the Potomac river and even the smaller one near his house a dangerous exercise in self-control, but he'd also been lucky enough to have it paired with void, an attribute with so little known about it that, as the doctors had told his parents only a few hours after he was born, it could cause literally anything to happen. His luck only continued to worsen from there as this odd combination decided to present itself in the form of Asperger's and a cripplingly strong empathy that told him more about people than he'd ever wanted to know. Social interactions were virtually impossible and eye contact was avoided like the plague; it often carried completely unintentional consequences for everyone involved.

 

            While he personally saw it as more of a curse than a blessing, throughout his life people had encouraged Will to view his empathy as a "gift" or a "talent". Occasionally it would even inspire others to give explanations that were nothing if not poetic, ranging anywhere from "Water and void are both empty, so you absorb others to fill the space," to "You are the water. You flow into the void, leaving room to take others into yourself." They always managed to make it sound mysterious and beautiful, almost magical if he were being honest. But they didn't have to live with it; Will did.

 

            He tried to make the best of what he'd been given, but it was so _hard_ sometimes. By choosing mermatology over profiling, he thought he'd taken the easy way out. A moderately strong water attribute was a requirement to legally work with merfolk in America and came with the added bonus of making those who did feel great on the job. With an attribute as strong as his, it was euphoric to be actively encouraged by the Mermatology Research Unit to lessen if not completely drop the constant vigilance it took to keep his control, not to mention how good he felt just by being there. 

 

            In direct contrast, his void attribute would have been put to good use for once in his life at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The ability to reconstruct a crime scene and get into a perpetrator's head would be highly valued there - he'd been told that enough times by the head of Behavioral Sciences that he couldn't possibly forget it. The only problem was that Will's empathy was a little _too_ strong. He could get sucked into normal minds _accidentally_ and have trouble shaking them off. Willingly diving in and out of the minds of the worst killers and psychopaths would break him. It would take time, but he knew in a deep, unfathomable way that it would. It was almost scary how easily he could imagine it, pushing himself to go further and further while he hid the cracks as fast as they showed. He shuddered to think of the nightmares he'd see; he already got enough of those just from picking up violence at his job and in the news.

 

            So he'd joined the MRU. He placed his comfort and security above the lives of those he could've saved, and that haunted him in every way. In all honesty, if there hadn't been another option he probably would have entered the BAU out of sheer guilt. Had the head been just a bit more persistent in her argument he would have caved. Thankfully, she'd seemed to quickly realize that he wouldn't be able to take it once he explained just how bad it could be for him and stopped pushing. He'd never forgotten her disappointment or the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes when she shook his hand and told him the offer was always on the table if he changed his mind. Now he spent his days teaching young trainees to read mer instead of murder scenes.

 

            "In the case of predatory mer, neither are correct." Twisting slightly, Will aimed a small remote toward his laptop and projector. A map of Earth with most of the water shaded in slid onto the screen with a quiet click. 

 

            "Although our early ancestors regarded merfolk as creatures of myth and legend, they've proven to be quite real. Almost every aquatic creature has a mer counterpart, though it's much rarer to find them in freshwater due to human impact on their environment. The total number of living mer is currently unknown, but scientists estimate that their numbers have been on the rise since the late 1800s due to strict protection laws and predict that within the next twenty years they might make a full recovery. For centuries there have been reported sightings in every major ocean."

 

            At this point Will pushed himself off of his desk and walked over to his podium to stand. Bracing his elbows against the cool wood, he reached up under his glasses to rub at his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. This was his last class of the day and this latest restless night was starting to catch up to him. His students seemed to feel the same; while they were attentive, he wouldn't call them alert. Yawns had spread through the room on several occasions, always hitting him the hardest as his empathy automatically picked up on their cues. He felt his mouth fighting to stretch open even now, but held it off for fear of setting off a chain reaction that started the whole thing all over again. At least it was Friday. They could all use a break, and quite frankly he was ready to go home and try his best to nap. Instead he clicked the remote and put up the next slide. A labeled drawing of a generic mer shape took the map's place. 

 

            "Over the years, the MRU has worked together with other international organizations to further our knowledge of merfolk and why they act the way they do. From a physical standpoint, most species of mer have already been studied extensively. The most is known about their lower halves as they're nearly indistinguishable from the ordinary creatures they resemble, if on a larger scale. Oddly enough, the sexes of their halves don't always match. We generally refer to them as their upper sex because the other sex is difficult to determine by sight and invasive to confirm. While from the waist up they may seem more or less human, the reality is that they're extraordinarily different."

 

            Another slide filled the screen with several photos of various species' torsos and faces - both male and female of varying races, ages and body types - with small labels listing where each had been found or caught. He'd grouped these photos specifically for their diversity. Americans had a bad habit of stereotyping, and almost every mer presented by the media was young, thin, and white. Will found that distasteful and quickly learned that it was better to expose trainees to what they should realistically expect.

 

            "Every mer, no matter the species, has a pair of human eyelids as well as a thin, transparent adipose lid unique to them. While deep sea fish also have these eyelids, they're more for filtering light and improving vision whereas merfolk use them for protection. Their ears are internally similar to ours, but the surrounding cartilage has been replaced by small fins matching their tails in appearance. Depending on the species, a mer's senses can be developed far beyond any human's. Though most have only slightly sharper canines, predatory mer have the same teeth as their aquatic counterpart. The poisonous or venomous species have small retractable barbs in their fingertips and, occasionally, spines along their backs or tails. Their lower halves posses fully functional gills, but as they have lungs they can breathe oxygen directly from the air as well. Because of this, they're able to speak to each other in and out of the water. There isn't a known name for this language, and no one has been able to successfully translate it to this day."

 

            Well, Will thought,  _almost_ no one. But his students didn't need to know that; after all, no one else did. He quickly switched to the next slide, an aerial photograph of a mer clan mid-migration. The group was slightly larger than average, and the waves shimmered with color wherever a tail or fin broke the water's surface.

 

            "Mer are incredibly complex creatures. Socially and intellectually, they favor humans more than fish. They tend to live in clans composed of families with social hierarchies similar to those found in dogs, but with better organization and less instinctually driven behaviors. Technologies, whether borrowed, learned, or created, are used for hunting and entertainment as well as status symbols. The origins of the practice are unclear, but all species commonly give gifts of jewelry to those important to them and often use it to begin courting potential mates. Merfolk can be expressive and emotional, but in situations they aren't comfortable with they stick to micro-expressions and present themselves as cold and distant. If a mer prefers isolation, they might appear this way all the time. While their full range of emotions is unknown, it's been thought to be equal to humans'."

 

            Will leaned forward and clasped his hands together. He waited for those taking notes to finish and watched as every pair of eyes eventually rose from various papers to stare at him. That kind of thing normally made him uncomfortable, but when he was teaching he knew they were less focused on him and more on what he was saying. He turned to the front again before he clicked to the next slide. 

 

            This time the picture was a glossy photograph of a graphic scene. A pretty young mergirl with black hair and olive skin had been neatly sliced open from the start of her pale gold and white tail to the dip in her collarbones. Her skin had been peeled back and hung loosely over her sides, displaying an empty cavity where muscle and organ had been. Flashes of white peaked through at the edges wherever the blood hadn't dried on what was left of her ribs. Wide murky green eyes stared out through a pale film, frozen forever in an expression of pain and fear. It was followed by a new photograph of another mer, male this time, with large bites brutally ripped out all over his body. Chunks of meat that hadn't been completely torn away clung to him by thin strands of skin and tissue on the verge of breaking. Then another, this time missing her eyes and covered in thin lacerations and tiny puncture wounds swelling an angry red. A cycle of gruesome kills flickered across the screen as Will picked up where he'd left off.

 

            "And just like humans, not all of those emotions are going to be healthy or good. It was previously thought that humans were the only animals that killed just to kill, but studies conducted in the 1920s found that merfolk are just as capable of cruelty. Though bodies in similar condition to those in these photos had been seen before, researchers had argued that they were the result of defensive behaviors or human poachers. 

 

            Then in 1923 a small boat carrying a scientific expedition headed by Dr. Richard Green happened to witness a mer attacking a smaller member of the same species. A sharpened stone knife was used to stab the other repeatedly even after it attempted to swim away and it soon died from blood loss. The larger mer then cut away pieces from the arms and back as well as flaying off strips of meat from the tail after removing a section of scales. It ate everything it had taken and kept the scales, most likely as a decoration or trophy. This was the first documented case of same-species cannibalism, but it wouldn't be the last. The entire event was recorded by Dr. Green and several photographs were taken and later published in his research paper. 

 

            Since then, increasing evidence has repeatedly shown that some mer share a nearly identical mentality with human killers and even suffer from the same psychological and personality disorders. It's now widely accepted that mer serial killers exist. Occasionally human swimmers and divers have gone missing only to be found dead with all of the signs of a mer attack, even those consistent with non-violent species. As a result, it becomes our job to try and prevent these murders by learning why they happen and capturing the ones responsible."

 

            He paused to let the note takers catch up and went back to his desk. Pulling out a blue water bottle, he took a few sips and faced the class. Most of his students' heads were still down, so he didn't have to worry about them looking back. His dry throat was finally soothed and his body hummed with a subtle energy now that he was hydrated. He managed to drink a little more before everyone was ready to go on and placed the bottle down next to his leg as he sat on the smooth table top.

 

            "Which brings us back to my question. Predator or prey? As natural killers, you'll be tempted to think of them the same way you'd think of any other predatory animal. But by thinking in such simple terms, you severely underestimate them and will never truly understand their behavioral patterns. Just as criminal profilers don't think of human killers in this way, neither shall we. These are unpredictable, intelligent creatures, and that, more than anything, makes them dangerous. 

 

            At the same time, you need to recognize that they aren't all killers just because they could be. This is especially true of predatory mer. They often get blamed for unnecessary kills even if there's no evidence for it. It's important to read the scene completely before making any snap decisions. Sharks are vilified the most, mainly because they're portrayed as violent killing machines in books and movies. In reality, most of the shark species aren't overly aggressive and are even known to prefer fish to mer unlike some predators. It's rare for them to attack humans. Most of the time it's the human's fault when they do. 

 

            Depending on the species of shark, these mer may live solitary lives and actively avoid areas with a lot of human activity. Because of that, many species of sharks remain a mystery even now. In fact, the attempts to catch larger mer sharks are so rarely successful that we know next to nothing about them. They're also extremely dangerous as a threatened mer shark will try anything to escape and is smart enough to do some real damage. The MRU has used those with strong water attributes to draw them in and lower the risk in the past-"

 

            He broke off as a hand shot up from the middle row. He could just barely make out the face of a boy in a black hoodie and tried to remember his name. It came back to him after a few seconds and he was simultaneously relieved and alarmed. This boy had a bad habit of asking insensitive questions and he wasn't looking forward to that. On the other hand, he couldn't really see him asking anything too terrible on the subject and could probably answer the blunt question with relative speed and ease. He also wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, and the idea of being held up after class was unbearable.

 

            "Yes, Marcus?"

 

            Marcus put his hand down and looked pleasantly surprised to have been called on. Will felt a brief flash of guilt. He preferred reading emails to reading _them_ and didn't answer his student's questions face to face most of the time, but he did his best to make sure they didn't have any.

 

            "Weren't you part of a failed attempt for the MRU, Mr. Graham?"

 

            Any guilt he'd been feeling was immediately washed away in a surge of old, chilling fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to have the world view mer in the same way we view normal animals instead of seeing them as special or magical. I've made up so much pseudoscience for this that I probably won't even get to it all. Sorry about telling instead of showing, but I wanted to get all of this established and Will lecturing was part of the plot anyway. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!


	4. Sink or Swim - IV

~~~

 

_This was hardly the first time he'd been dragged out like this. The MRU had always been upfront about their desire to use his water attribute for all it was worth, and most of the time it felt so good that he didn't really mind. This, on the other hand, never failed to make him uncomfortable. He looked down over the railing again, clutching at the cool, smooth metal and wishing it could ground him and calm his buzzing nerves. It didn't, of course. At this point nothing would._

_Will had been asked to go out on these trips every three or four months for as long as he'd been teaching at the academy. While he understood that catching mer was crucial to mermatological science as a whole, he still resented being used as live bait. It made him feel guilty too, like he was abusing the power he held over the unsuspecting mer, but because he had an attribute like his and taught mermatology for a living he didn't have a good enough reason to refuse. The MRU had Will to thank for an additional twelve mer in their tanks. He'd been hoping that after catching a dozen, they'd stop asking. He should've known better though. No one ever stops wanting something once they know they can use it. He sighed heavily and wondered what the crew would do if he decided to slip out into the waves. Surely they would just pull him back up again? That was all that was stopping him. Well, that and the fact that he was a grown man who knew better._

_A hard pat on the back shocked him out of his thoughts and almost sent him head-first over the railing. He was surprised to find that the smell of coffee filled the air, rising above the scent of salt and something else that could only be described as the sea. There was only one person who would search him out this early in the morning._

_Beverly Katz was still grinning by the time he turned around. She carried two white mugs, though one had been tucked into the crook of her arm to free the hand she'd used to smack him. The other mug was silently offered to him and he gratefully accepted it, cradling the warm ceramic between his palms before taking a small sip. The black coffee jolted his senses and was just hot enough to warm him without scalding his tongue. Beverly shifted her mug to her hand and leaned on her elbows beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her snatch a few black locks of hair from the gentle breeze and tuck them behind her ear. Both watched the sun rise over the horizon and spill the first few beams of soft early morning light._

_"Rough night?" She didn't turn to look at him, already knowing that he wouldn't be looking back any time soon._

_Will took a larger sip of the coffee and swirled it around with his tongue, savoring the bitter taste before he swallowed. "Didn't sleep."_

_Beverly finally glanced over with a small frown, but didn't push. He liked that about her. Her smoke and water attributes gave her a flexible, dynamic personality that made her capable of working well with anyone. She could be blunt and persistent at times, but she also had a great sense of humor and knew when not to pry._

_Instead, she smirked at him and stretched her arms up over her head, arching her spine like a cat. "Oh, and here I thought I'd finally found another morning person. But no,_ I _get the insomniac."_

_He chuckled softly and turned to look a few inches to the right of her head. "Well at least we know what's wrong with me. What's_ your _excuse?"_

_She playfully punched his arm and laughed when he rubbed his shoulder, feigning a wounded expression. It was nice, having a casual conversation. He almost felt normal._

_He'd known Beverly for several years now, but Will was constantly amazed by how easily she could draw him into a bit of friendly rapport. At first her light touches and teasing had been painfully awkward for him, but he never sensed any ill will. Eventually he'd started teasing her back though he never did any causal touching himself. Out of all the people Will'd been forced to meet and work with on these trips, he liked Beverly the most._

_"Are we interrupting something?"_

_Jimmy Price walked over to their little meeting followed by a groggy looking Zeller. Beverly pushed off the railing and flipped to press her back into it, eyeing Jimmy's bed head with an arched brow as she raised the mug to her lips._

_"Wait, is that a cup in your hand? And Will too? You made coffee and didn't save any for_ me _?" He looked personally offended, but Will felt worse for Brian who'd perked up at the word coffee before blinking sleepily and staring off into the distance. Apparently Beverly didn't feel bad for either of them and waved the cup around with a smile._

_"Sorry, but I only make coffee for early risers. It's delicious by the way. Forget that, though. I'm more concerned about Brian. He looks drained. You two have a long night?" She waggled her eyebrows just as Will took a sip and he narrowly avoided spitting hot liquid all over himself._

_Jimmy looked more or less unfazed and actually huffed, running a hand over his hair and frowning when he realized he'd forgotten to brush it. "Yeah, so we definitely need some coffee."_

_Brian woke up enough to be embarrassed and wouldn't look at any of them, but no one really made much of a fuss about it anymore. He and Jimmy had been together for years before Will had met them. They bickered like a much older married couple, but their bond only seemed stronger for it. Beverly often joked about how glad she was that Will had come along and ended her third-wheeling._

_"Seriously though, if we're gonna go over everything and try to make this work, I'll just go ahead and make a fresh pot. I know_ I'll _need it. Let's go, Jimmy." Brian turned to his husband and struggled to hide a smile when his gaze landed on his messy hair._

_"You've got a little..."_

_"I know, I know..."_

_Jimmy looked amused as Brian reached up to smooth down a cowlick only to have it spring back up again. After a few more seconds of unsuccessful grooming, Brian gave up and glanced back over to Beverly and Will. "I guess we'll take a minute to get ready first."_

_He gave a small nod and wandered back the way they came with Jimmy falling into step beside him. It was just the two of them again, and they went back to watching the sky which had filled with puffy white clouds and the shrill cries of the seagulls circling over head. Will would have been content to stay there all day, but he knew they both needed time to get ready and he was hoping to take a quick shower before meeting up with everyone._

_He quietly sighed, and at Beverly's questioning glance Will decided to excuse himself. "I think I'm gonna head back in. I need some time to clear my head and wake up before we do this."_

_Beverly's eyes lit up in sympathetic understanding, but the mischievous twist of her lips told a different story. She put her hands on her hips and scoffed at him. "Oh I see how it is, Graham. I'm useless once the coffee runs out. I shoulda known."_

_Will laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender, slowly backing away from the railing as he spoke. "Hey, don't be like that, Bev. You can always make some more. Besides, we both know I finished mine first."_

_She huffed, but was smiling. Turning back to the sea, she waved him away dismissively. "Yeah yeah, whatever you say. But you're making me a cup tomorrow. Now go take a shower and get all presentable. I'll see you soon."_

_Will nodded even though he knew she couldn't see him anymore and paused in the doorway, one foot already inside. "I can't promise 'presentable', but I'll try for decent. See you, Beverly."_

_He made his way back to the small cabin temporarily serving as his room and slipped inside. This boat was bigger than usual thanks to the large tank it carried in the hopes of better accommodating an unusual soon-to-be guest, so all ten of the crew members, with the exception of Jimmy and Brian who were sharing, got to have their own. This was fortunate for Will since he didn't have to worry about his odd sleep schedule disturbing a roommate. Even better, each one had its own bathroom attached. As someone who sweat through his clothing almost every time he slept, an easily accessible shower was more necessity than convenience._

_Once the door had been shut and locked, Will walked into the closet sized bathroom and stripped. Cracking the door, he stepped into the narrow shower and tried not to feel claustrophobic. It got easier when he turned the water on. Warm rivulets ran down his face and rolled across his skin, spreading a pleasant buzz that woke him up even better than his coffee. Going through the motions on autopilot - lather, rinse, repeat - allowed him to work his way into a trance-like state of calm. He only had around half an hour left before he'd be asked to loosen his hold over his attribute and concentration was crucial; if he wasn't careful, he could completely lose control and accidentally change things for the worse. Will watched the last of the soap flow down the drain before reluctantly shutting the water off. He toweled down just enough to avoid dripping all over the floor before wrapping it securely around his waist and walking to his dresser for a change of clothes. Water droplets still clung to his damp curls in a few places by the time he finished his morning routine, but he didn't really mind. He didn't think anyone else would either._

_Once he deemed himself "presentable", he left to find the others, who nodded to him as he approached. They were going to go over the plan one more time before he could finally get this over with. Will knew they were only being this meticulous because of the high risk of injury and low chances of success, but he personally thought it was overkill. He'd been briefed on this constantly from the moment he accepted the 'invitation' extended by the MRU and had a feeling it was the same for everyone else._

_Nicole Corrigon, a petite ginger woman with an almost startling amount of strength and the official leader of their little expedition, cleared her throat and waited for their attention. Once she had it, she pushed her bangs back to join the rest of her silky red hair and sighed loudly._

_"Alright people, this is the last time we'll go through this, so pay attention. As you all know, we're here to catch a black tip that's been seen swimming alone in this region of the Outer Banks. The plan is to chum the water and have Mr. Graham here stand on deck at a safe distance to lure this mer in. This might not be an overly aggressive species, but I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous this can get if things go south. Safety is our number one priority, understand? We can always try to catch another mer shark, but we can't replace a human being._

_Naturally, this'll draw in more than just our target, so I need our net throwers to nab the right fish. Be absolutely sure before you even think about pulling something on board. The last thing we need to do is waste this trip by snagging a normal shark and scaring our mer away. I want our aquatic team ready to restrain it and get it to the tank as fast as possible. The mermatology team has already prepared the tank's water and filtration system, but they'll be on standby and watch during its capture, introduction to the tank, and adjustment period. Then we go._

_We play this smart and get a little lucky, and this can all be over in an hour, two tops. I don't want to see any risky business, either. Stick to the plan, but if something goes wrong don't just stand there like a dumb-ass. This thing might not be top predator but it's strong and fast and it's going to be unimaginably pissed. If it comes at you, I suggest you get the fuck out of its way. Any questions?"_

_Her sharp cornflower blue gaze flickered across each of their faces, lingering on Will's just long enough to give him an impression of intense scrutiny. In a rare moment of boldness, he focused his own stormy blues on the space between her eyes and did his best to look confident. He didn't want or need her doubting him any more than she already did. Nicole's brow furrowed slightly, but she must have been satisfied by whatever it was she'd seen in him because a few seconds later she moved on to scan the rest of the small crowd and finally nodded to herself when no one asked anything._

_"Good. Let's get this show on the road. I'm ready to go home."_

_She started to turn away, but stopped halfway through and faced them once again. Though Nicole seemed to be addressing all of them, Will could tell from the way she'd positioned herself that she was mainly concerned with the aquatic team. "One last thing: we're trying to catch it, not kill it. I should only see excessive force if it's trying to hurt somebody. If it gets away, it's not the end of the world. Better that it leaves unharmed than be caught with injuries. Now get moving, people! We've got a job to do."_

_Everyone broke away and hurried to comply, Beverly giving his shoulder a reassuring pat as she passed him. Physically, Will's part was the easiest to do. All he had to do was stand by the railing a few feet from where the nets would be hauled in. Of course, the crew already knew just how tough his job would be on his mind. They'd been warned to avoid distracting him when the time came._

_From his new vantage point, he watched as a large net woven of thick brown rope was pulled out from wherever it'd been tucked away and dropped unceremoniously in front of the gap where the mer would be brought up. A massive aquarium was wheeled in on a rolling frame, already filled with salt water that sloshed against the top - unlocked for now - every time it was shoved forward by the aquatic team. They grunted and strained with every push in spite of their obvious bulk, and by the time they finally managed to maneuver it into place all three were red-faced and lightly sweating. He wasn't surprised; the acrylic glass looked to be around two inches thick with a durable metal lid, which was heavy enough_ without _the added weight of the water and cart._

_Butterflies took flight deep inside of him as three buckets of chum were placed down next to the net. The smell of blood and meat rose off of them in waves, doing nothing to settle his stomach. Nicole, who'd also been observing, looked to him and waited. He nodded slowly and turned inward, everything but the sound of the waves and smell of the sea dwindling away to nothing._

_The sensation of connecting to your element was indescribable, unique to the individual in ways nothing else could be. The closest Will had ever gotten to explaining it was the feeling of coming home after a long day to his bustling pack, a hot shower, a good meal, and a nap. That same feeling of welcome and relief washed over him now, seeping into his bones and radiating out into the world around him. He could feel it brush by the sparks of life nestled inside every sea creature in the area, calling to them with the promise of safety and, he assumed, that same sensation of coming home._

_And they answered with enthusiasm, moving to be near him just as he longed to do for them. The tiny sparks of life slowly grew into flames as the distance dropped, reminding him to make an effort and hold himself in check. He drew back into his head a bit and tried to pick out the mer among the pulses glowing brightly in his mind's eye._

_It was faint, but he could sense its vaguely human aura lingering on the fringes of his sphere of influence in wary curiosity. His heart leapt in his chest; they hadn't expected to find it that fast. He'd been fully prepared to wait for several hours and even then might not have found anything. No matter what, he had to get the next part right. It was tricky, but he gently stretched a long strand into the open space he envisioned and latched onto the mer, connecting its imaginary spark to his own. Through subtle manipulation, he planted the suggestion that it should come to find him with just enough urgency that it would be impossible to ignore. Will felt it respond and it rapidly moved toward him along with several other sparks. With his job completed, he rose from the depths of his mind to see how the others were doing._

_In his "absence", the buckets had been emptied over the side and stained the water with red. The chum had worked well, and all around them shark fins sliced through the waves. The net catchers' eyes were intently searching for flashes of skin or hair and the aquatic team stood nearby, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice._

_Nicole looked his way and immediately shouted to him once she saw he was only partially stuck in his trance. "Mr. Graham! Welcome back. I hope you've got good news for me."_

_It took him a few seconds to form a reply. His brain was split between the scene in front of him and tracking the mer's movements, and it took an enormous amount of effort just to string together a few simple words. He blinked slowly and finally managed to croak out an answer. "It's coming. Be here soon. Stay alert."_

_Her eyes flashed as she grinned and yelled to the rest of the crew. "Look alive, folks! Our mer could get here any minute now. Don't screw this up. How far out, Mr. Graham?"_

_He followed the invisible line connecting it to him and found it was surprisingly close. It must have sped up to try and close the gap. "Maybe five minutes?"_

_Her grin grew even wider, hints of white teeth peaking out between her lips. "You heard him, wake up and pay attention!"_

_For four long minutes the sound of sharks thrashing in the water was all they could hear. At some point more chum had been tossed out into the waves, driving them into a frenzy. Thanks to all the splashing and blood, it was difficult to see much of anything other than the occasional fin poking up. If Will hadn't been there, they wouldn't have had a chance and it would've slipped away with ease if it showed up at all. Luckily for them, he_ was _there and knew exactly when it arrived._

_He flung himself forward and gripped the rail so hard his knuckles turned white. It took everything he had to raise his arm and point, but he did. "There!"_

_All heads followed the path of his finger and they finally saw their mer. Her dark skin looked smooth to the touch where they could see it through the choppy water. Black tresses fanned out around her as she fed with as much gusto as the sharks. They watched as she slowly moved closer, eyeing the boat suspiciously, but unable to resist both the free meal_ and _his attribute. Once she was in range, the net flew over the side without hesitation and wrapped around her tightly. She made a sound of distress and writhed in her new confinement, causing all of the normal sharks to flee._

_Will's shoulders sagged in relief as she was hoisted onto the deck, finally allowing him to sever their temporary bond. The amount of guilt he felt practically doubled when he could actually_ feel _her panic and terror. She honestly thought they were going to kill her. She desperately squirmed on the wooden floorboards and he could feel confusion welling up alongside the fear. This was not the comforting place she'd been promised. His heart ached at her lost expression, and in that moment he hated the MRU for making him do this with everything he had. In front of this many people he couldn't really calm her down, but he promised himself that he would try once they were alone. He was still in the process of snapping the line between them when everything went to hell._

_For starters, she was bigger than they'd thought. The reports had been of a five foot long black tip, but he'd wager she was closer to eight. That wasn't the only difference either. The tips of her fins were the same color as the rest of her, so she wasn't a black tip reef shark at all. By then both the aquatic team and the net throwers had noticed that something was off and were staring down at her in concern. The pieces fell into place as Will continued to check her over, and he finally knew where they'd gone wrong._

_At that exact moment, the mer shark's cat-like brown eyes flitted over to him and locked onto his when he didn't look away fast enough. In seconds, the realization of what had occurred flashed across her face as it contorted with rage. She snarled and gnashed her dagger-like teeth at him. With a power that would have been impressive at any other time, she lashed out at the men gathered around her and struggled in their weakened grasps. Startled, they lost their hold altogether and she darted forward, slipping out from under the net. Her nails gouged deep grooves into the wood as she dragged herself with upper body strength alone. Time slowed to a crawl as Will scrambled back and slipped in a previously ignored puddle that had likely just cost him his life. He didn't know if there really was a black tip out there somewhere, but this wasn't it. No, this was an eight foot long bull shark. And it was going to kill him._

_She was on him in seconds, lunging forward and roughly shoving him to the floor. His arms screamed in agony where her fingers curled around them with excessive force, but he couldn't make a sound. Will felt like he was frozen, the shock and exhaustion pinning him in place just as thoroughly as she was. They still hadn't broken eye contact. This close, their temporary link was stronger than before and the full brunt of her emotions slammed into him. Beneath the obvious fury was the sting of betrayal and even now he couldn't help but feel remorse for his deceit. It didn't matter though, because he'd tricked her and they both knew it. Her eyes burned with hatred and she parted her lips to reveal teeth made to tear and rend flesh. Maybe it was just the fear talking, but he could've sworn they were bigger than before. He didn't have much time to consider it as they sank into the meat of his shoulder. All coherent thought came to an abrupt end._

_His entire right side flared up as white hot agony flowed from the wound. Her teeth were scraping against his bones and he could_ feel _it, could_ hear _it. His blood pooled around both of them and bloomed across his shirt, soaking her hair and gushing into her mouth. Will tried to scramble backwards and pull away, but he couldn't find any purchase on the slick boards and every small movement drew a harsh gasp from his lungs. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead as her teeth tugged at him where they dug in. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and rolled down the sides of his face when she shook her head from side to side. He was terrified that she would rip out the whole mouthful, but the mer released his shoulder and pulled back, dripping warm fluid down onto his skin. For a split second his mind thought she was wearing lipstick, but it was only his blood staining her mouth a bright red_. 

 

 _She could kill him easily,_ would _kill him._

_He saw her eyes lower to his throat with steely determination and prepared himself for the end. Oddly enough, Will's first thought was of his dogs. Who would care for them when he was gone? He hoped Beverly or Alana would be willing to; it was a slight comfort in his final moments, knowing they would be in good hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for her bite to close around his neck._

_But it never came. He risked a glance at her through his eyelashes and saw that she had lifted herself back up again. Will watched a pink tongue flick out to lap at a spot of blood on her cheek with apprehension, not understanding why she'd stopped. He hesitantly reached for their bond and found that her rage had been replaced with surprise. The rapid shift from scorching anger to mild shock was like a splash of ice water to his senses, leaving him shaking and nervous. The mer eased her grip, but still held him down. He distantly noted that her nails had stabbed into him and left crescent-shaped puncture wounds sluggishly oozing blood. One hand was carefully licked clean while the other traveled up to his face and wrapped around his chin, tilting up to force eye contact. She moved his head from side to side, pausing at his ears and examining his neck and face, pushing her fingers into his mouth to prod at his teeth. Her eyes widened comically and she withdrew her hand, wriggling away from him and toward the ocean and freedom._

_She refused to break eye contact, wearing a mystified expression that they probably shared. Nausea twisted his stomach into knots when he looked into her eyes, but he didn't know what he'd seen in them to make him feel that way. By the time he could wonder she'd reached the edge. Her tail dipped into the waves as she stared him down._

_"Never again."_

_She slipped over the side of the boat and was gone._

_The whole thing had lasted less than half a minute. Time snapped back into place. People were shouting all around him, but they sounded so far away. He was cold, and could feel his body shivering but couldn't stop it. A pair of warm hands pulled him up into a sitting position and he found himself staring at Nicole. Her mouth was moving and he knew sound was coming out, but it was hard to hear over the sudden ringing in his ears. His eyelids felt so heavy. He blinked slowly. Will tried to stay awake, knew it would be a bad thing to fall asleep, but his eyes kept sliding shut and it was getting harder and harder to force them open again. Someone slapped at his cheeks, and he woke up enough to listen to what they had to say. Nicole reached him first. Beverly's shaky voice came soon after._

_"Mr. Graham. Mr. Graham! You've gotta stay awake. Hey! Stay with me, you hear? Stay with me, dammit!"_

_"Will! Oh my god, Will!"_

_"Ms. Katz, I need you to listen to me-"_

_"Will._ Will _. Don't you die on me. You still owe me a cup of coffee, remember? Get your ass back here or so help me-"_

_"Ms. Katz! Listen to me. I need you to contact the coastguard. Ask them to send a helicopter, understand? Tell them we've got a mer shark attack victim. Hurry! We don't have much time."_

_"Okay. Okay. Will, I've got to go now, but I won't be gone long and I'll be_ so _pissed if you die while I'm gone. You're gonna live, Graham!"_

_He blinked wearily, but fought the urge to sleep better than before. Beverly gave his left hand a tight squeeze before she left and he squeezed back as hard as he could. After that, everything passed in a blur until he was buffeted by wind from the chopper's blades._

_Later, after he'd been rushed away in a helicopter and was recovering from intensive surgery, he'd lie in his hospital bed and be told that he'd lost two and a half liters of blood before landing on the operating table, that he'd been incredibly stupid to get that close, that by any logic he should be dead right now, that he'd gotten so very, very lucky. Later, he'd remember the mer's eyes just before she left his life. Later, he'd realize what he'd seen to make him sick. He'd spend the next few months trying to erase this unsettling discovery from his mind, but any time he saw the scars he was overwhelmed with it._

_Her pity._

_Her grief._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very confident in my portrayal of team sassy science :/ Hopefully I'll get better


	5. Sink or Swim - V

_~~~_

            "Mr. Graham...?"

 

            Will blinked and was in the classroom. Marcus was staring at him along with the rest of the class, the weight of their eyes making him want to curl in on himself and hide his vulnerability. He didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but knew it had been too long if he'd made his students concerned. More than anything, he was embarrassed by his lapse in self-control. 

 

            It had been years since then, and though he wasn't completely comfortable with his scars (and didn't think he ever _could_ be) the time and distance had eased the memory's sting until it was nearly gone. This relapse, or more accurately the strength of the emotions it'd wrought, surprised him in more ways than one. That it had been able to catch him off guard so easily... It worried him. Will wanted to believe that he was over it, but if the mere mention of the attack was enough to give him phantom pains then he'd probably only suppressed his feelings instead of facing them. It was more than a little upsetting. 

 

            For the time being, he needed to move on with the lecture and wrap things up. He made a quick decision to temporarily chalk his moment of weakness up to a simple mistake only made because he was tired. Will told himself he'd figure it out later.

 

            "Yes, I was. We went after a black tip reef shark and caught a larger bull shark by accident. She understood that I had lured her in and attacked me, then escaped. We've learned since then that the black tip had already left the area by the time we arrived."

 

           He still couldn't believe how foolish they'd been. If they had checked their reports, had followed up on them, he wouldn't have a problem with his rotator cuff or have a ring of lines from the incisions perfectly preserved on his skin. In fact, he'd likely still be going out there to catch mer every few months. But that was a thing of the past now.

 

            Once the incident happened, he finally had a reason to reject the MRU's requests. He didn't like doing it in the first place, and intended to make the best of a horrible situation that he could. Besides, he'd heard the mer loud and clear. Never again. Her words struck something deep inside of him, and he'd grown to think of them as a contract of exchange: his life for merfolks' freedom. And like a contract, he found himself feeling obligated to hold up his end of the deal. Now he rarely interacted with live mer at all, and when he did they were already in the MRU's aquarium. He'd given up on figuring out why the mer had pitied him, but it had eaten away at him for a while. He'd gone to some dark places and had trouble finding his way back. 

 

            Luckily his friends had refused to leave him alone even when he was being an ass. Beverly, Jimmy, and Brian had all made sure to drag him out of the house, even if it was just to get drinks at a local bar. They'd grown closer, and even now he met up with them regularly for get togethers. Alana had come by to make him do things like shower and sleep and eat or drink something other than whiskey and tv dinners. He never needed any help with the dogs though. Even at his worst, he would take care of them.

 

            Will didn't think that he'd ever be able to express how grateful he was to have friends like them, but they knew he tried.

 

            "Bull shark mer are known to be particularly aggressive when threatened. Because of this, few have been successfully caught and those that were proved difficult to keep. Most mer shark species are the same way. Due to the hazards they pose to handlers and the negative effects of confinement on mer, predatory species can be held for a maximum of one year while other species are limited to three."

 

            When Will caught himself absentmindedly rubbing small circles into his right shoulder, right over the scar, he had to stop himself from slamming his hand down in frustration. He chose to lift it to his hair and comb through the wild curls instead, hoping it would have a calming effect. Will lifted his water bottle for a sip and was annoyed to find his hands were shaking. At least his voice was steady. After gulping down a few mouthfuls he decided to end the lesson before he sidetracked even further. There were only three minutes left, and if he'd thought he was ready to go before then he _needed_ to get out of there now.  

 

            So naturally, that was when he spotted Jack Crawford lingering by his door. Which was something he'd hoped, in vain, he would never have to see again.

 

            If Will had thought the head of the BAU was pushy, then the MRU's head was downright aggressive. When most people thought of water and rock attributes, the calming image of a smooth stone in a stream or brook came to mind. But Will saw Agent Crawford as a waterfall, relentless and fast-paced, an unstoppable force of nature more than willing to push you right up to the edge and over it. Jack was a good man, but when he wanted something he usually got it. That was probably why he was so hung up on Will; after the attack, he'd been saying nothing _but_ no. If Jack was here now, that could only mean one thing. He thought he needed Will again and would try anything in his power to get him. Will wasn't sure which was worse; that Jack had come at all or that he'd likely end up doing whatever he wanted him to. He couldn't quite stop himself from frowning as he turned back to the class and brought his lecture to a close.

 

            "As I was saying before, attempting to catch mer sharks, or really any predatory species, is extremely dangerous. Even the non-predatory species can get violent when backed into a corner. That's why it's so important that we learn from our mistakes. Having a strong water attribute doesn't make you any safer than everybody else. Once you realize that, you'll be better prepared to deal with a bad situation. On that note, your homework is to write a two page essay on any safety regulation in the MRU's handbook. Explain why you chose the rule you did and it's overall significance to protecting those in the field. Include at least one way the regulation could be improved or updated. What is this revision's purpose? What are you trying to prevent? Tell me your design. Tell me who you are. Class dismissed."

 

            The bell rang just before he finished, but his students were still packing up so he knew they'd heard. He began putting his things away as well, still clinging to the hope that he'd be able to leave sooner rather than later. That hope was quickly dying as Will watched Crawford from the corner of his eye. He was standing just inside now, patiently waiting for the throng of people to thin before moving in. By the time the last back had retreated through the door he was halfway across the room. Though Will didn't look up from where his hands were busily tucking papers away into binders and folders, he could feel him getting closer like an oncoming storm and braced himself in much the same way.

 

            "Will."

 

            He pushed his glasses down his nose before hazarding a glance at the man standing before him. Jack's face was cut in half by the frames, effectively preventing the eye contact he was so desperate to avoid. 

 

            "Jack." Will nodded sharply, staring at the knot in his tie.

 

            Seeing that he'd gotten Will's attention, Jack pressed on in a much gentler manner than he was used to. That he thought it was necessary to forgo his usual brusque mannerisms made Will more suspicious than anything.

_"_ Your lecture was impressive as always. Good to see you being so open about everything." Jack leaned forward, his professional smile losing a bit of it's warmth. He pushed into Will's personal space just enough to make him uncomfortable. "You looked lost at the end though. What happened back there, Will?" 

 

            Will could see the concern beneath his calm exterior and felt himself bristle in response. He wasn't a tea cup, dammit, and he didn't want to be treated like one. He could handle his problems on his own.

 

            "Nothing happened, Jack. I didn't get lost, just... Distracted." If it came out more forcefully than intended, it wasn't really his fault. Looking away, he went back to sifting through the papers on his desk, silently cursing himself for not doing it earlier when Jack _wasn't_ breathing down his neck.

 

            "Well it didn't look like nothing to _me_." Jack was apparently done with the pleasantries. He reached out and pushed Will's glasses up, being sure to catch his eyes as he did. "I heard the question, Will, and I know _exactly_ what you were distracted by. I need to know that you're over it. You _are_ over it, aren't you?"

 

            This was the last thing Will ever wanted to discuss with his boss, and he was tempted to snap back with something about how he was doing just fine when he realized that that was the plan. Jack was setting him up for it, and Will refused to play into his hand that easily. If he wanted to manipulate him, he'd have to try harder than that. 

 

            He finally finished wrangling things into his bag and slid it onto his shoulder, a subtle attempt at cutting the conversation short. "Look Jack, it's a Friday, I'm tired, and I need to get back to my dogs. Just tell me what you want." Will focused on the bridge of Jack's nose, determined to end this before it started.

 

            The thin veil of friendliness dropped completely as Jack drew to his full height and slipped back into his role of authority. His voice sharpened, making what should've been a request more or less a command. "I need your help. When you left, we had to bring in a replacement. Dr. Chilton volunteered. His attribute's not as strong as yours, but three days ago he lured in a mer shark-"

 

            "No."

 

            Jack blinked in surprise and snapped his mouth shut. Will used the opening to slip around him and head to the door. To his credit, Jack caught up quickly and easily kept pace with him.

 

            "Will, could you please just-"

 

            "I said _no_ , Jack." Will glared at his tie and didn't bother to slow down, knowing Jack would be more than willing to follow him all the way to his car if he thought it would help his cause.

 

            " _Will._ " Jack stopped walking, but lowered his voice. He sounded dangerous, and the undercurrent of anger drove Will to hesitate. This was serious. 

 

            He turned back to him and paused. "I'll hear you out, but that's it."

 

            Will watched some of the tension leave his shoulders as he walked back over, reading satisfaction in Jack's expression. He nodded for him to speak and shifted the strap of his bag, still determined to leave but worried over Jack's confidence that he'd cave. It wouldn't be the first time, but he'd been holding out lately and honestly didn't think he could be convinced. If listening to Jack's attempts at persuasion was what it took for him to leave, then he'd rather just get it over with and go home.

 

            "I really need your help this time, Will. This isn't just any mer shark. We caught a Great White." 

 

            Will stared in disbelief, but could see that he meant it. "How the hell did Chilton manage to pull in a Great White?"

 

            He got a laugh for that as Jack slowly shook his head with a rueful smile. "Don't know, but I'm glad he did." They both knew that Chilton struggled to lure average mer in, lacking the subtlety needed to avoid scaring them off. But if he was able to snare an apex predator after only a few years in the field, then maybe he was better than they thought.

 

            "Congratulations. If my replacement is doing so well, why do you need me?" Will furrowed his brow, but Jack looked like he was glad he'd stopped being stubborn and asked.

 

            "There've been some... complications."

 

            " _Complications_?" Jack's lips thinned into a grim line and told him all he needed to know. Will sighed, already wishing he'd left him to sort it out on his own. "Right. Complications. Who or what did it kill?"

 

            If anything Jack's scowl darkened as he ran a hand across his face, rubbing small circles into the corners of his eyes. "When he was captured, he didn't really put up a fight. No struggle, no anger, not even surprise."

 

            Will arched his brow, unimpressed and unsympathetic. "And no one thought that might be a little _off_?"

 

            Jack stiffened and shot him a glare from between his fingers. "You don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Will."

 

            He scoffed and shifted his weight, fingers fiddling with the strap again. "And if it looks too good to be true, it usually is." 

 

            The bitter retort had Jack white-knuckled where his hands balled into fists at his sides, but Will didn't really care. He technically didn't have to be there and idly entertained the thought of making Jack mad enough to send him home like a disobedient child. He was only mildly disappointed when he calmed himself and picked up where he left off. 

 

            "True enough. We should've known better, but we wanted to be optimistic. Hell, for all we know that kind of thing's _normal_. It's not like we had a lot to go on." Will could grudgingly admit that was true. Only three other Great Whites had ever been caught, and each time they'd either slipped away or been so hard to keep that they had to be released in less than a week. It was beyond the MRU's wildest dreams that they would ever catch one themselves. And that meant that they were nowhere _near_ ready for it.

 

            "After we got him back to the MRUA, he was placed in a tank with two other mer sharks, a tiger and lemon. The next morning their handler found both of them dead. The Great White had a few injuries, but they're mostly healed." That was surprising. It was well known that mer healed faster than humans, but a healing rate like that was unheard of. "He's been moved into isolation and refuses to cooperate. We brought Dr. Chilton back to see if his attribute would help, but so far he's been ignored."

 

            Jack paused to glance at Will, fully focused on him now. "At this point, we'd normally just let him go. But we can't do that. This could be the _only_ chance we get to study a Great White up close. Chilton wants him transferred to the Baltimore State Aquarium for Lethal Mer, but I don't want to let him take our mer away. My only other option is you."

 

            And there it was, the bait. Jack was placing him on a pedestal as the solution to all of his problems again. Will grimaced and tugged at the strap, wanting to be anywhere else. Preferably somewhere with dogs. He massaged his temples in a futile effort to ward off his budding headache and sighed. "What makes you think he'll like me any better than Chilton?"

 

            Will felt more than saw Jack's spark of hope and couldn't help his quick flash of guilt for leading him on. He wasn't going to do it, and Jack couldn't _make_ him do it. When this conversation was over he was going home. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

 

            "I don't think so, I _know_ so. And we _both_ know your attribute is ten times stronger than Dr. Chilton's." A gleam of determination shone from Jack's eyes and pinned Will in place. 

 

            He squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze and resumed his fidgeting. "Attributes aren't everything, Jack. We have no idea how he'll respond to me or if he will in the first place."

 

            "I'm not asking for perfection, Will. I'm just asking you to try." He waited for eye contact, but moved on when it became obvious that he wasn't going to get it. "Look, I'm going to make you a promise. If you meet this mer and it doesn't work out, you can go. You tell me you're uncomfortable, you leave. You don't have to get too close, Will. I won't let you get too close."

 

            Will shuffled from foot to foot and eyed the door enviously, wanting more than anything to walk out and go home. He could imagine opening the door and being swarmed by his pack, cooking a fish he'd caught for dinner, and going to sleep knowing he didn't have work again until Monday. 

 

            But some part of him knew he couldn't. If Chilton got his hands on the Great White, the MRU would lose its only chance to study the elusive predator. That research could be the key to saving lives. The mer would be happier in their aquarium than tucked away in the BSALM anyway. And on a personal note, Will was curious. Why would he lash out so suddenly if he let himself get caught? Finally, he squared his shoulders and glanced to the left of Jack's head.

 

            "...Alright. I'll do it." At Jack's triumphant grin, he gave him a steely warning. "But I'm _not_ staying long. I have to get back to my dogs. This'll be fast, in and out." He wasn't sure if he'd said it more for Jack or himself.

 

            Jack's smile warmed and he gave a slow nod. "That's all I need."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm working on the next part right now, but it might take a little while because it looks like it'll be pretty long and I usually spend a day or two editing. Thank you for all the interest that's been shown! I really didn't expect it. I'll do my best to update as soon as I can.


	6. Sink or Swim - VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _I DID IT!_ Sorry it took so long, but this has been a weird week. I've figured out some more stuff on here, which is nice. I've also already started working on the next part, which is extra nice. Oh, and I lied. There'll be eight parts.

~~~

 

            The MRU's aquarium was about a fifteen minute walk from the academy, its plain brick outside giving away nothing of the unusual interior. With a one point six million gallon main aquarium and twenty four bordering tanks ranging from one thousand to one _hundred_ thousand gallons, it was already massive. The workers' offices and kitchens for food preparation only added to the sprawl. It loomed in the skyline, three stories tall without including the basement level used to observe the underground section. 

 

            Unlike most aquariums, a majority of the space beyond the first floor was devoted to the MRU's employees instead of the public. You could sit and watch the inhabitants swim and pick up a few facts about them from signs posted on the walls, but you wouldn't find anything like a gift shop or restaurant. It strove for efficiency over entertainment, like an enormous office building. People were constantly coming and going and the buzz of conversation, though muted somewhat by the atmosphere, was as much a part of the place as the mer.

 

            But as Will and Jack made their way into the lobby, their footsteps were the loudest sounds in the nearly deserted building, just barely rising above the hum of the fluorescents overhead. Will was content to let them fill the silence, never one for small talk, and figured that Jack had already said everything he'd needed to say. 

 

            As they stepped out of the elevator on the second floor, he was struck by how empty the halls seemed without the bustling crowds they were meant to hold; six or seven people could easily walk through at a time. Jack led him down the main path on the left, not pausing as they passed the first few narrow halls branching off to the smaller tanks. Will already knew that the Great White would be kept in one they could isolate, and those grew as you moved away from the entrance. He fully expected to be taken to the very back where the hundred thousand gallon aquarium awaited them.

 

            Will thought he'd be more nervous by now, but whenever he walked through the MRUA it was hard for him to feel anything but calm. To his right, a foot of glass separated him from over a million gallons of water and roughly ten thousand sea creatures, eight thousand of which were mer. Beneath his feet, water ran through a network called the lane that allowed the mer to navigate the entire building and connected all of the tanks. He'd already seen several sluggish mer swim by in the brief time they'd been there, likely headed to another tank to settle in for the night. Being surrounded by so much water meant that Will's body was overflowing with a strange energy that ate at his fears instead of feeding them. 

 

            Any other time Will would have gladly accepted the pleasant buzz, but now he struggled to push it away. He couldn't afford to become complacent with Jack around and never wanted to be caught off guard by a mer shark again. So he shifted his focus to his void attribute, making his mind sharp enough to cut through the fuzzy feeling that threatened to overtake his brain. Lacking anything to focus it on, Will turned inward and thought of the last time he'd been here, his mind supplying the details with a clarity that had him fully immersed in seconds.

 

            The first thing to emerge was the sound. Hundreds of feet shuffled across the floor, thousands of words drifted through the air, somewhere a child cried out. He opened his eyes to an array of colors and took a moment to stare down at a group of mer traveling through the lane before glancing up to orient himself. Will stood in front of the twenty thousand gallon aquarium in the right wing of the building, feet supported by a mere inch and a half of acrylic and glass, and watched as the mer he'd seen swam down the lane in the middle of the room and up into the tank. It was a Saturday, he was sure, because there were more families and wanderers than handlers and workers milling about. They packed into the bleachers and stared in awe as a handler played with a dark skinned merboy, tossing a ball back and forth. A girl came over and joined them to the crowd's delight. 

 

            Will studied them with a patience he didn't remember having when he'd actually been there a month ago to meet Jack in his office. A little girl pointed to the mer and clapped her hands while her parents beamed. They were relieved that she'd liked it and hadn't thrown a fit yet, but the tension in their shoulders matched the exhaustion on their faces and told him that it'd taken a lot for them to keep it that way. Two teens leaned against each other and held hands, talking excitedly. They were best friends and had been for years, but one girl wanted something more and kept glancing to her friend with a smile. Will was happy for her; the other wanted the same thing. He had just started unraveling the quiet sadness of an older woman there by herself when something snapped him out of his self-imposed trance.

 

            "Will." Jack was calm as he said it, used to him wandering off into his head. "We're here." They'd stopped in front of a door, having already veered away from the main hall. A small plaque read "100,000 Entry, Left" and confirmed his guess from earlier.

 

            Now that they weren't standing over the lane, his nervousness had returned with a vengeance. Will could feel his stomach twisting into knots and swallowed dryly. He tried to convince himself that this would still be in and out, but it was a lot harder to do now that the challenge was staring him in the face. Jack opened the door just in time to hear a loud splash followed by a familiar yelp.

 

            On the opposite end of the long room, Chilton was standing on a black observation platform suspended high over the tank where it jut out over the water. The weight of two pairs of eyes settled on them as they walked in. Will quickly slid his glasses down, choosing to study Chilton in favor of looking into the tank or at its sole occupant. 

 

            To his amusement, he found that the good doctor was soaked. His hair hung limply across his forehead while his shirt clung miserably to his shoulders and chest. Still, he managed a wan smile and tucked away his annoyance as he greeted them. "Ah, Agent Crawford and Mister Graham! Unfortunate timing. You'll have to excuse my appearance at the moment. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Will didn't miss the suspicion coloring his tone.

 

            He also didn't miss the way his gaze had sharpened with interest as it shifted from Jack to him. He resisted the urge to fidget with something and wished that he and Jack had been there alone. This was stressful enough as is. Having Chilton there would make it so much worse.

 

            Dr. Frederick Chilton had worked in criminal psychology before becoming the head of the Baltimore State Aquarium for Lethal Mer, claiming his fascination with the unique creatures' minds had prompted the move. Now he analyzed the behaviors of deadly mer at his aquarium, but frequently worked with the MRU, and therefore, Will. Every time they had met Will'd been forced to deal with his intense curiosity for _both_ of his attributes and dodged requests to stop by the BSALM. Luckily for him, the first time he'd been badgered in Alana's presence she'd chewed Chilton out so thoroughly that he hadn't brought it up since.

 

            Jack stepped forward and Will reluctantly trailed along behind him, coming to a stop at the foot of the ladder as Chilton made his way down. "Perfectly fine, doctor. Sorry to drop in like this. Didn't know you'd be here." His disapproval was understandable as he glanced up with a slight frown. If you weren't a mer's assigned handler you needed Jack's special permission to be in one of these private rooms.

 

            Chilton had the good sense to look properly chastised for flaunting the rules and dipped his head in apology, but his relaxed posture and easy smile erased any question of his true feelings on the matter. "Sorry Agent Crawford, but I wanted a little more time to work with _him_." He nodded to the tank and Jack's eyes followed the movement, presumably to the mer though Will didn't risk joining him to check.

 

            "How's that going? Any progress?"

 

            Chilton grimaced and gestured to his clothes with a bitter laugh. "As you can see, it hasn't gone very well. He's stopped ignoring me at least, but I hesitate to call that 'progress.' I might need to make a few more visits." The last part was admitted sheepishly, frustration hiding in the tightening of his jaw.

 

            "He's already been here for three days." Jack said it gently, aware that Chilton wouldn't like what was coming next. "I think it's time to let someone else to give it a shot."

 

            His eyes widened with anger as he made the connection between Jack's words and Will's presence. A note of betrayal crept into his voice as he turned to glare at the water. "Oh. I see. I had been hoping to work with him alone, but if you think that Mister Graham will fare any better then he's welcome to try." 

 

            Will couldn't help but sympathize with his disappointment. Chilton had always been jealous of his water attribute, and though he found it ridiculous he could see how it would contribute the sting of defeat. He was surprised he hadn't put up more of a fight.

 

            "Thank you, doctor. If this doesn't work out, rest assured that I'll want you to try again." Jack turned to Will. "We'll leave you two alone." He gestured for Chilton to follow him as he crossed the room, holding the door for him before glancing back over his shoulder. With a pointed look to the observation platform and a slow nod, he stepped through and allowed the door to close behind him.

 

            Will took a deep breath, eyes still avoiding the tank. He placed a hand on the ladder and began to climb, his footsteps ringing out to join the sound of the mer gliding through the water. At the top, he shuffled over to the railing and clutched it carefully, unwilling to stand at the edge, but knowing that he had to. He stayed like this for a few seconds before finally lowering his eyes to the surface.

 

            And found himself face to face with a nineteen foot long mer shark.

 

            The Great White swam back and forth in front of the platform, his powerful tail lazily pushing him forward with ease. The gray of his back became dappled on the sides where it merged with his milky white underbelly and the bottom ridges of his fins were tinged with black like paper dipped in ink. Dark, thick lines of scarring were scattered across his lower half. A few brighter lines around the slits of his gills showed Will where he must have been injured in the fight, some of them still pink and in the process of healing. All in all, the tail alone was longer than two of him put together and incredibly impressive to see.

 

            Equally impressive was his more human half. Both white and gray faded where they merged with tan skin at the start of his torso, a smooth transition from aquatic to tertiary. The toned muscles of an athlete implied that his tail wasn't his only source of strength. More thin lines of pale scar tissue stood out against unmarred flesh, a wound on his right arm looking raw and red where it had yet to close. He was mostly hairless, built to be as hydrodynamic as possible, but short ashen blonde locks formed a fringe of bangs sweeping to the side of his face. They were dry, as all mer's hair was, due to a special coating that covered each strand and allowed them to remain the same both in and out of water.

 

            He appeared to be in his mid-forties. High cheekbones gave him a European look, though Will couldn't say from where. Arched brows so light he could barely see them perched above thickly lidded eyes with graceful crow’s feet tucked neatly into the corners. A narrow, aristocratic nose led to thin lips with a wide cupid's bow. The fins of his ears were the same gray as his tail, blackening around the edges. Though he didn't dare to meet his eyes, Will thought they were a darker shade of brown.

 

            He looked beautiful, streamlined, elegant. And he was one of the most dangerous things that Will had ever seen. He was exactly what he appeared to be; 

 

            A predator.

 

            And somehow, Will was supposed to convince him to cooperate. He knew he had the mer's attention, but beyond that he'd hit a wall. People constantly broadcast their thoughts to him everyday. Here he found only silence. The most he could see was the faintest flicker of curiosity in his expression, and even that was overlaid with a strangely neutral sense of calm. It was wonderful to be alone in his head in the presence of another. And in this case, it was terrifying to not know what that 'other' was thinking.

 

            His only advantage was his water attribute, but he wasn't sure if he should use it. While he had done better than Chilton in terms of being ignored so far, he had no way of knowing how this mer would respond to him if he made a connection that way. After a brief internal debate, Will finally decided to try. It couldn't hurt his chances, and even if it did he would just be allowed to leave which was his original goal in the first place.

 

            Gradually, he eased away from one attribute and slipped into another, water unfurling in his head and chest as it expanded and quickly pushed past void. In a place with so much sea life he didn't dare to let it spread very far and kept its effects limited to the tank in front of him. 

 

            It was still more than enough, this small fraction of his power surpassing the full capabilities of almost everyone else in the building. He was rewarded for his efforts with a slight widening of the Great White's eyes, the first true expression of emotion Will had seen so far, and a newly focused scrutiny. He gathered the substantial energy flowing through him before slowly shaping it into a loosely packed ball. Finally, he gently sought out the mer shark's spark and began warily funneling it to him, not knowing what to expect.

 

            "I do not appreciate this attempt at manipulation."

 

            The low, amused voice startled him enough to snap their weak link. Will instinctively pulled back his attribute, though not all the way, and silently cursed when the mer noticed this and grew even more intrigued. He edged forward until he was a few feet from the platform, unreadable as he stared up at him. Will had to fight the urge to step back.

 

            "Can you understand me?" Will flinched, shocked to've been found out so easily, and looked away. Even though he couldn't stop them from learning of his attributes, merfolk didn't know he understood them unless he _wanted_ them to. He watched the Great White resume his circling with caution, determined to avoid giving anything else away.

 

            The mer seemed to be waiting for his answer and gave a quiet sigh when he didn't offer one. Both remained silent. A look of disappointment gave way to one of contemplation as he finally spoke, carefully enunciating his words. "My name is Hannibal Lecter. I was born in the Baltic Sea off the coast of Lithuania."

 

            Will had to stop himself from asking how a creature that couldn't leave the sea had ended up with the name of a Carthaginian general. Somehow that wasn't even the strangest part. The Baltic Sea was hardly the place for a Great White mer shark to be born. Extreme low temperatures led to thick sheets of ice blanketing the surface in patches when it didn't freeze over completely. While merfolk were even better at temperature regulation than humans, those conditions were hardly ideal. The feeble salinity and dismal levels of oxygen didn't help. He glanced back over to Hannibal in wonder. And accidentally met his eyes.

 

            He'd been wrong earlier. Instead of brown, he was drowning in sanguine pools that sucked him in with flecks of red. Again he found a placid stillness in his gaze, but it was the deceptive mirror of a calm lake holding monsters in its depths. Depths that both of his attributes were determined to plunge him into. The first layer fell away to reveal something different from anything he'd ever seen before. Hannibal was a hunter first and foremost with impossible control at his core, meticulous in everything he did. He wasn't driven to kill purely based on instinct. No, he planned each one out and saw beauty in the delicate savagery of it all. A carnivore with a taste for flesh and the means to get it. An artist creating masterpieces of blood and bone.

 

            Will snapped his head to the side with a gasp. His heart raced in his chest as a chill ran down his spine and prickled at his skin. He felt like a rabbit playing games with a snake, hopelessly outmatched from the start without even knowing it. At least now he had something to tell Jack; Hannibal definitely preferred mer to fish. Adjusting his glasses with a shaky hand, he exhaled slowly through his nose and discreetly faced him once more.

 

            "Ah." Meanwhile, Hannibal was apparently pleased. He drifted even closer, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I believe you understand far more than what I have to say. May I have your name?" The smile dimmed as he was met with silence. Will steeled himself against his dissatisfaction and refused to speak. In fact, he wasn't going to say a single word until he had safely left the room, an idea that was sounding better and better with every second he stayed.

 

            "You are being very rude." It was a warning, one he read loud and clear. Hannibal's icy tone pushed him toward the decision to leave more than anything, but Will hesitated. 

 

            Like it or not, Jack was counting on him for this, and he couldn't be sure he'd gotten enough. From what little he _had_ learned he could see that Hannibal was fully capable of killing anything he chose to, but they'd already known that. As an apex predator, it was in his nature. And as Will had taught his students, just because he _could_ kill didn't mean he _would_ kill. He couldn't even tell Jack his name without raising questions he had no intention of answering. All in all, he'd probably been less useful than Chilton; at least he'd helped them at the start.

 

            While he went through his internal debate, Hannibal murmured something barely audible to him. "Not fond of eye contact, are you?" Warning bells went off in Will's head, though he wasn't sure why. His alarm grew as he glanced down and found that Hannibal had disappeared. After leaning out to make sure that he hadn't swam into the area the observation platform hung over and still seeing nothing the alarm bloomed into panic. It was _never_ a good sign when a predator left your sight. He needed to get out of there _now._

Will was still leaning back when the water in front of him exploded as something burst free of the surface. Time slowed as Hannibal flew toward him in a spray of droplets, serrated teeth gleaming under the aquarium lights. Death came for him in the form of an angry mer shark. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not too confident in my characterization or this entire chapter in general. FEEDBACK IS VERY VERY WELCOME. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I wanted to split this into two and thought that was as good a place as any. 
> 
> In this story, Hannibal is already seen as a predator and doesn't really have to hide that (just the extent of it), which is why Will is able to see what he does so easily. It also means that it'll be a lot harder for Hannibal to manipulate people because he'll have to work at gaining their trust first... >:)
> 
> More scattered mer facts because too much pseudoscience. I made a really disproportional map of the MRUA for no reason, so I can share that if anybody's interested. Should I post this on tumblr, or...?
> 
> Edit: For everyone who's asking, Will _is_ the sub. Not gonna lie, the fact that there's a comment chain about that is really funny to me! :D


	7. Sink or Swim - VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Finally._
> 
> First off, I'd like to thank all of you. My original goal was to get 10 kudos and _maybe_ one or two comments if I was lucky. Needless to say, you've completely blown me away! While I'm trying to only reply to the comments with questions in them, I read and appreciate every single one. I really love hearing what you guys think; it makes my day!
> 
> Sorry again for taking so long, but. School. :/ Also, there might be a slight pause before I write the next part because the idea for a short fluff fic smacked into me recently and I want to try writing it. So that might be something to look forward to!

~~~

 

            For the second time in his life, Will found himself on the wrong end of a mer shark's teeth. He could only close his eyes and wait, once again, for the agony of teeth latching onto his flesh.

 

            But to his surprise, wet fingers brushed against his cheek and slid his glasses off before falling away with a loud splash. His eyes flew open and he found Hannibal casually holding them up to the light, turning them in his hands. "Perhaps this will help you with that." His satisfaction couldn't be more obvious.

 

            Will sputtered and watched as he examined them, momentarily stunned to be alive. Once his brain caught up to the fact that he was still breathing, he quickly went from stunned to indignant. "Hey!" Scowling, he straightened back out and glanced to the door, feeling Hannibal's eyes on him as he did. When he was sure that Jack and Chilton wouldn't be coming back any time soon, he turned back and worried his lip, considering his options. In the end, there was only one that led to the return of his glasses. Will tapped out a rhythm on the metal rail and cleared his throat. "I'm going to need those back."

 

            Hannibal's eyes flashed with victory as the sound of his own language reached his ears. He paused in his study of the lenses to look up at Will, lowering the glasses to rest just above the water. "What makes you think I do not intend to keep them?"

 

            Will blinked, surprised. "Because you don't _need_ them. They're useless to you."

 

            He smiled, the glimpse of his teeth making Will nervously shuffle from foot to foot. "I might not need them, but I _do_ want them. They're fascinating to me. And hardly useless as they have led to this conversation."

 

            "But that doesn't mean you get to keep them! They're my glasses and I need them."

 

            Hannibal arched a brow and looked to them, moving the temples in and out. "Do you, though? You can see clearly without these, so what do you need them for?"

 

            Instantly, Will snapped his mouth shut. He had never been asked about it that directly. There was no way he was going to talk about his empathy with a mer shark he never planned to see again after today.

 

            His reluctance was noted in the subtle tilt of Hannibal's head. He was almost apologetic as he softly backtracked. "If you will not answer that question, may I ask another?" Hannibal waited for Will to nod before continuing. "Would you tell me your name?"

 

            After considering it, he decided that it couldn't hurt and wouldn't matter once he was gone. "...Will. Will Graham."

 

            "Will." His name rolled off of Hannibal's tongue as though he was testing its flavor, easy enough to say but foreign to one unused to speaking English. "Short for...?"

 

            "William." Will drummed his nails against the rail and wondered how he'd lost control of the conversation so easily. He had to get them back on track. Jack and Chilton could come back any minute now and it'd be a whole lot harder to convince Hannibal when he couldn't speak to him. "What do I have to do to get my glasses back?"

 

            Hannibal blinked slowly, the only outward sign of his displeasure with his bluntness. "What would you be willing to do?"

 

            Exasperated, Will ran a hand through his curls and grumbled. "I don't know. Why don't you just tell me what you want?" Answering a question with a question. He was unpleasantly reminded of a psychiatrist.

 

            "In that case, I propose a trade." Will watched with equal amounts of suspicion and curiosity as Hannibal prodded at the hinges of his glasses, still holding them above the water. "You want these... _glasses_... back and I would like some answers." His eyes flicked up to Will and would've met his own if he hadn't looked away. "Is this fair?"

 

            "Ask away." Will waved a hand and leaned over the tank, ignoring the nagging little voice in his head that told him it wasn't safe. Hannibal'd had the perfect opportunity to hurt him and didn't take it, so why would he try again? Besides, if he could breach a vertical twelve feet into the air just to take his glasses, then the observation platform wasn't going to be much help anyway.

 

            "Thank you. Where are we, exactly?"

 

            "Uh..." Scratching at the back of his head, Will wondered if there was a way to tell him without adding unnecessary details. He wasn't sure how much information he could give without it being _too_ much. Hannibal was clever and capable; he wouldn't put it past him to figure out a way to use the knowledge to his advantage. "This is an aquarium belonging to the Mermatology Research Unit. You're in an isolation tank right now."

 

            "Research unit? Is that why I am here, to be researched?" Hannibal was giving him his full attention now, the intensity of his gaze burning into Will's mind.

 

            "Yes..." He searched Hannibal's face for his opinion, but found that he still couldn't read him. At most he appeared thoughtful, staring down at the water before finally looking back to him. 

 

            "Then why are you here?"

 

            Will cleared his throat again, feeling awkward. "You aren't cooperating. I'm here to change that."

 

            His eyes crinkled with amusement. "Ah. I see." 

 

            Will could feel his cheeks start to redden and kept his eyes downcast, unwilling to make this any worse than it had to be. If he hadn't gotten through to Hannibal before, then there was no way he'd be able to now that he knew what he was going for.

 

            "The two that left." He glanced up, focusing on Hannibal's chin as he spoke. "Are they the ones who sent you here?"

 

            "Sent me here? Why couldn't it have been my choice?" Though he'd tried for defiant, it came across as more inquisitive instead.

 

            Hannibal cocked his head to the side with a small smile. "Because you wanted to leave the moment you walked in."

 

            Will hated that he couldn't argue with that. His silence was all the confirmation either of them needed.

 

            Hannibal began swimming again, long tail cutting through the water with ease. "Those men wanted you here for a reason. Is it because we can speak to each other?"

 

            Will frowned, propping himself up on his elbows. "No, no, they wanted me for my... ability."

 

            "A Child of the Sea." Hannibal nodded sagely. 

 

            This wasn't the first time Will had heard a mer refer to him that way. Over the years, he'd learned that they used the epithet 'Child of the' for every attribute and rarely corrected them if ever anymore. He considered amending with 'water attribute', but it wasn't worth derailing the conversation even further than they already had. "...Neither of them know I speak your language."

 

            He arched a brow at that. "Neither of them?"

 

            "No."

 

            "Does _anyone_ know?"

 

            Will shook his head, tracing small patterns onto the cool metal pressed against his fingertips.

 

            "Why wouldn't you tell them?" He seemed genuinely perplexed. "Would they not like to know?"

 

            Reaching up to rub at his eyes, Will sighed into his hand. "That's... a long story. I don't really want to get into it right now."

 

            The first time Will spoke to a mer was the first time he'd ever been out at sea. A pale, scrawny boy living in the South, his dad had finally taken him out for a fishing trip after years of waiting for him to gain enough control over his attribute. They'd sailed out in the old boat his dad had bought and repaired, teaching Will the ins and outs of an engine long before he'd hit double digits. Off the coast of New Orleans, father and son spent the day out on deck, reeling in catch after catch. He could still remember his old man sipping a beer and explaining which lines and lures were best for which fish. Even now, he kept a workbench tucked into a corner of his house where he made his own brightly colored lures of feather, fur, and bone.

 

            His dad had ruffled his hair and asked him not to stay up too late, retreating to the cabin for the night. Will had his legs stuck through the rails, his feet dangling over the water. The sky above him was a vast, shimmering plain that stretched out forever on all sides. Out there, city lights couldn't choke out the stars. They shone like diamonds nestled in black silk, winking at him from overhead. For the first time in his life, alone with the heavens and the sea, he could clear his mind and drift in perfect emptiness.

 

            Which was why it came as a complete shock when a cold hand grabbed his ankle. He yanked his leg out of its grasp with a small shriek, scrambling backwards as bell-like laughter rose from the waves. Cautiously, he scooted over to peer out from the side of the boat, gasping in awe as another's eyes met his own.

 

            A young boy about his age with sandy blond hair smirked at him, green eyes alight with glee. "Hello."

 

            Will was astounded. Where had this other boy come from? Theirs was the only boat for miles and they were too far from shore for him to have swum there. Then he saw the tips of a tail poking up behind him. Suddenly swimming didn't seem like much of a problem.

 

            Wide eyed, he shyly waved to the merboy in greeting. "H-hi..." This was his first time seeing a mer that wasn't just a picture on TV. He'd heard so many stories about people meeting them that he thought it might be normal, something everyone did. Even if it wasn't, this was already too interesting for him to let it go. He slowly pushed his legs through the bars, fingers curling around them as he leaned forward as far as he could. "I'm Will."

 

            The merboy latched onto his ankles again, holding himself in place as he bobbed in the waves. "Lucas. Hey, where's your tail?" He brushed and poked at the sole of Will's foot with one hand, making him squirm and laugh.

 

            "Stop, that tickles!" 

 

            Lucas grinned broadly at him, shifting to a look of amazement when he wiggled his toes.

 

            "And I don't _have_ a tail. I have legs." To prove his point, he gently pulled away and bent his knees a few times before letting his feet drop back down.

 

            "No _tail_? But-" He abruptly cut himself off, tilting his head to the side as he looked Will over. "Ohhh. You're one of _those_ , aren't you? A Child of the Sea?"

 

            Will knit his brow, confused. People had called him a lot of things, but he'd never heard that before. "I'm a wha-"

 

            " _Will!_ "

 

            His dad snatched him up and backed away. He looked frightened and angry as he glared at the place where Lucas had been. Sadly, Will saw that his new friend had already slipped away. They didn't even get to say goodbye.

 

            He didn't have time to think on it as his father spun them around and rushed into the cabin. Once the door was safely closed, he sat Will down on the bed and faced him with a stern expression. "Boy, what do you think you're doin'?"

 

            Twisting the covers with his hands, Will looked up through the fringe of his lashes. He knew his dad was upset, but he didn't know why, and that was scarier than anything. "We were just talkin', sir, honest-"

 

            "None of that." Will's lip quivered as his father growled. When his dad saw this, he calmed slightly and pet his hair. "Look at me, Will. Look." Obediently, Will met his eyes. "Normal folk can't do that, you hear? You can't go speakin' their language, son. It's not natural. People will talk. What if they take you away? We don't want that to happen, do we?"

 

            Curls bouncing, Will shook his head no. He was glad his dad had calmed down, but with his anger out of the way he could read an underlying fear that had him feeling anxious too. "You really didn't know what he was sayin', sir?"

 

            He caught a brief flicker of sorrow, strange in his old man's serious eyes. "No son, I didn't. Now you gotta promise me you won't talk like that again or tell anyone you can. Do you promise, Will?"

 

            He nodded slowly, focused on his wet feet. "I promise."

 

            Sighing, his dad pulled him into a one-armed hug and stood. "Good. Now go on to sleep. I'll see you in the mornin'." He walked up the stairs and out onto the deck, sliding a box of cigarettes out of his pocket as he went. 

 

            Will watched him leave with a heavy heart. He didn't understand how what he'd done was wrong. It might not have been the 'normal' thing to do, but he'd already figured out that he wasn't like everyone else. Resigning himself to never being able to speak with mer again, he rolled over in bed to face the wall. And immediately sat up.

 

            Lucas watched through the small porthole, waving once he had Will's attention. Will gave a sidelong glance to the door, but knew his dad was still outside and wouldn't come back for a while. He waved back with a smile. Technically he wasn't talking to him, so his promise went unbroken. With raised brows, the merboy gestured to the deck in an unspoken question. Will shrugged his shoulders. After a final wave goodbye, Lucas vanished with a flick of his tail. He never saw him again.

 

            Obviously he had only made good on one half of his promise. In his line of work, not speaking to mer simply wasn't an option. It made his job much easier when he could communicate with them to learn their thoughts, wants, and needs. He'd kept humans from finding out, though. Will didn't think it was necessary for them to know. They'd only exploit the ability anyway, and he had no intention of becoming a convenient tool at the MRU's disposal.

 

            "They want me to cooperate." As Hannibal's voice pulled him from his thoughts, Will glanced down and had to stifle a laugh. His glasses perched on Hannibal's nose, the thick black frames looking incredibly out of place on the otherwise elegant mer shark. Some of his mirth must have slipped through because he quickly slid them off. "Do you?"

 

            "Yes. In fact, I'd like you to start by returning those." Will pointed to the glasses in question, lips quirking up into a crooked smile. "I've answered your questions, right?"

 

            For a long second, Hannibal didn't reply. Finally, he held the glasses up to him with a quiet chuckle. "I suppose you have. How would you like me to return them?"

 

            Now that would be a problem. While there was a ladder at the side of the platform leading down to the water, he didn't like the thought of being within easy reach of Hannibal's teeth. So that was out. He scratched at the scruff of his beard, unsure of where to go from here. "I... don't know, to be honest."

 

            Hannibal's eyes measured the distance between the platform and the surface of the water, one hand resting on his chin. "If I might make a suggestion, you could hold out your arm while I place them in your hand. That is, if you don't mind them getting wet."

           

            Will nodded and stretched his arm out over the railing, relieved to have settled everything before Jack and Chilton returned. As Hannibal dove down to the bottom of the tank, he flicked his gaze over to the door and waited.

 

            Then jolted as a hand wrapped around his wrist. He was pulled over, falling into Hannibal as they plummeted into the tank.

 

            " _Fuck!"_

            They smashed into the water, sloshing it against the sides, and sank down. Will broke free of Hannibal's grip and surged up with a gasp, curls plastered to his face. "What the hell are you doing?!" Unfortunately for him, Jack and Chilton chose that exact moment to fling the door open, barging in just in time to hear every word. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind; they knew.

 

            Hannibal gave him a wide berth, circling him as he tread water and watched things fall apart through a thick pane of glass. "It looks like your secret has been exposed."

 

            His mind jumped back to his previous words. _Would they not like to know?_ Will turned to face him, seething with rage. "You _wanted_ them to find out."

 

            He grinned at him as though he'd just done a particularly entertaining trick, still well out of arm's reach. If his fiery accusation had made an impact, it didn't show. "Yes. Is that a problem for you?"

 

            "You know damn well it is!" Will swam over to the ladder and began hauling himself out with shaking hands. A shudder ran down his spine as Hannibal called out to him once he'd reached the top.

 

            "Fear makes you rude, dear Will." 

 

            He quickly climbed down the other ladder, eager to get as far away from the tank as he could. The other two were still staring at him in open-mouthed amazement.

 

            Jack was the first to snap out of it. He stormed over and started yelling the moment Will's feet touched the ground. "Will! What was _that_?! Did you just-"

 

            "Yes, Jack, I _did_ just." Will'd had enough. He was tired, soaking wet, and now that he was out of the tank, shivering with cold.

 

            Jack's face took on a reddish tint, veins bulging in his neck and forehead. "You knew how to talk to mer all this time and didn't _tell_ anyone _?_ Didn't tell _me?!_ What were you think-"

 

            Chilton surprised both of them by rushing forward and actually speaking over him. "This is incredible!” His eyes burned with fervor as he approached Will and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him as he spoke. Will flinched back, extremely uncomfortable, and fought to pull away to no avail. “We have to document this! We've got to do research, studies, examinations-"

 

            A resounding bang sliced through the air and cut him off. They all turned to find Hannibal with his palm against the glass, an ominous groaning sound coming from the tank. It looked like his nails had etched thin lines into the glass. His eyes bored into Chilton, focused on the spot where his hands dug into Will's shoulders. Alarmed, Chilton quickly stepped back. Only then did Hannibal move away, his eyes never leaving them as he slowly swam back and forth. They stared back, dumbfounded.

 

            Finally, Jack cleared his throat and turned to Chilton. "Doctor, I think you'd better leave. He doesn't seem very happy with you." He ducked his head in acceptance and briskly made his way to the door, walking out with no hesitation marring his steps.

 

            Still eyeing Hannibal warily, Jack was much calmer than he would've been if they were truly alone. "Will. We need to talk."

 

            "I know, Jack, I know." Will pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb, drooping with sudden exhaustion. "But can it wait? I'm dripping wet and need to shower and change. Besides that, I've got to get back to my dogs. I haven't seen them since I left this morning."

 

            Jack scowled as he spoke, clearly reluctant to let him go. But even he knew that he had a point. "...Alright, but this isn't over. I don't care if it's the weekend; we're meeting in my office tomorrow at eight." Seeing that he was about to protest, he silenced Will with a glare. "You don't _get_ a choice in this."

 

            Will slouched in defeat, knowing that he couldn't talk his way out of something this big. "Okay. I'll see you then."

 

            They both walked to the door, Jack leading the way. Will's hand was on the handle when Hannibal's voice rose behind him. He paused, glancing back to the aquarium.

 

            "I would like to apologize." Hannibal had his hand placed on the glass again, lightly this time, and stared out at him. "I didn't know that this would cause such trouble. Will I be able to see you again?"

 

            Heaving a sigh, Will turned around completely. "At this point, I wouldn't doubt it."

 

            He tipped his head in gratitude for the honest answer. Then tilted it to the side in contemplation. "What did that man say to you just now?"

 

            "He's making me come back tomorrow."

 

            "Why?"

 

            Will groaned and ruffled his hair. "Because he doesn't know anything. Because he's upset. And he'll want me to work here now, most likely with you."

 

            Hannibal perked up at that, abruptly showing even more interest than before. "If my future will be discussed, then I only think it fair that I be there too."

 

            " _What?_ " He narrowed his eyes at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's not going to work. You can't leave the isolation tank without permission and Jack won't understand a word you say."

 

            Tail stirring the water much faster now, he slid through the tank like a shadow on the wall. "But _you_ will. You can translate for me, voice my opinion." He smiled as though he'd already won.

 

            "What if I don't want to? What if I say no?"

 

            "You won't." It was a fact the way he said it.

 

            Will was sick of everybody telling him what he would or wouldn't do. He was even sicker of them being right. But he wasn't going to admit it, not yet. Shaking his head, he uncrossed his arms and reached for the handle again, turning his back on him. "Let's agree to disagree, at least until tomorrow. I guess I'll stop by before I see Jack."

 

            "Thank you, Will. Have a good night."

 

            The door clicked shut behind him, firm separation from the events of the day. He was quick to leave, and was already halfway down the hall when he lifted a hand to his shirt pocket for his glasses, remembering too late that Hannibal never gave them to him.

 

            And brushed the frames with his fingertips.

 

            He froze, gears turning as he scrambled to remember how they'd gotten there. Hannibal must've tucked them in, but when? When he'd been tugged over the railing? When they'd hit the water together? It couldn't possibly have been enough time, but there they were. Hannibal's hand had been a few inches to the left of his heart and he hadn't even noticed. He'd gotten so close. Too close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've learned so many shark facts doing research for this fic. So many. 
> 
> I read a cool meta on Will's glasses the other day. [You should check it out](http://thecatsred.tumblr.com/post/51269341733/wills-glasses).
> 
> I think I'm doing better with characterization, but who knows?? ~~kid!Will would have a southern accent I will fight you on this~~ As always, questions and criticism are welcome!
> 
> Only one part left in chapter one :)


	8. Sink or Swim - VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. So that was definitely _not_ the short pause I'd planned to take. Sorry about that. After I stopped writing this, I was hit with the worst writer's block I've ever had. To break it, I started a completely different fic and then got swept up into another soon after. While neither of those are complete, I decided that I'd neglected this one for long enough and came back! :D 
> 
> This time I've finally got a beta! [howishughdancyevenpossible](http://howishughdancyevenpossible.tumblr.com/) has been a huge help and their enthusiasm is one of the main reasons I started this up again. Discussing the plot with them helped me to make several breakthroughs and fill in more details as well. Thank you so much!!
> 
> Rereading my old writing was really weird. I have no idea why any of you like this?? Hopefully I'll be getting back into the swing of things and writing more soon. :)

~~~

 

            Will leaned against the rail with a heavy sigh, one hand propping up his chin while the other dangled loosely over the tank. Though his water attribute was trying to energize him, an oppressive weariness had settled into his bones and refused to fade away. Thoughts drifted dully through his brain, glossing over the chaotic turmoil struggling to revolt against a strong sense of resignation. At this point it didn't matter. There wasn't anything more he could do.

 

            Below him Hannibal gracefully cut through the water and slid around the tank's perimeter. His contentment only contributed to Will's bad mood. He traced his path with tired eyes, a scowl etched onto his face. It was far too tempting to place the blame on him. In fact, he probably deserved it. If he hadn't been so insistent, Will wouldn't be here right now.

 

            "Is it really that bad?" Startled, he jumped as Hannibal glanced up to him with amusement and slowed, his tail moving side to side in wide arcs. "Working with me?"

 

            His scowl darkened and he folded his arms, resting his head on them and glaring at the wall. "No. And we both know that's not why I'm upset." It figured that he would chose to break the silence with this.

 

            Hannibal finished the lap he was on and came to a stop in front of him, sanguine eyes studying him closely. "You should speak for yourself, Will. I personally do not understand why you are sulking."

 

            "I'm not sulking!" The moment he said them, he realized how childish his words sounded. Hannibal arched a brow and Will knew that he'd just proven his point for him. He blew out a huff of breath. "Okay, so I might be sulking. But I don't think you have a right to complain."

 

            His lids lowered, hooding his eyes in a subtle display of irritation. "Oh? I think I do. You have not spoken a word to me in the hour you've been standing there, and your sour disposition has ruined what could have otherwise been a pleasant conversation."

 

            He snorted, fingernail running across a small indentation in the rail. "No offense, but I highly doubt we would've had a _pleasant conversation_ either way." At the slight tilt of Hannibal's head, he elaborated. "Things should've gone one of two ways. One." He held up a finger. "I talk to Jack. He somehow manages to convince me to stay. I begin working with you, reluctantly, on Monday. Two." The first finger was joined by a second. "I talk to Jack. I reject him and leave. We don't meet again." Glancing down into the tank, he stared pointedly at the center of his chest. "Notice how Jack and I were the only ones conversing in both scenarios."

 

            "As I said before, I was being discussed and wanted to be there." His tone was entirely unapologetic. "While I do agree that there were more people present than necessary, I was not one of them. Aside from that, you had already told me that I could speak to Jack through you."

 

            Abruptly pushing off of the railing, he threw his hands into the air. "No, I didn't! I said I would come by and consider it after we talked. Which was impossible as you weren't even in the tank when I got here!"

 

           Will had gone to sleep the night before with a heavy sense of doom. It'd carried over into his morning routine, his uneasy slumber making it even worse. As he somberly prepared himself for the one conversation he'd been avoiding all his life, even his dogs had picked up on his mood. They bumped against his shins with quiet whines, tails and ears drooping. The click of their nails on wooden floorboards followed him through the house.

 

            While he appreciated their natural sympathy, he knew there wasn't anything they could do. But they didn't. It wasn't fair of him to spread his misery and he didn't want to leave them with it, so before he left he knelt by the door and made sure that each dog was comforted. His hands roamed over their fur, both long and short, and delivered scratches and belly rubs. He didn't hide his smiles when they darted forward to lick his face. By the time he was done, their tails were wagging and their mouths split into canine grins. 

 

            Placing a hand on his hip, he stood and shook a finger at them. "I don't know how long I'll be gone, but I expect good behavior. Winston's in charge." He laughed as Winston's ears popped up at his name, his brown eyes looking into his seriously as though he'd understood. When he finally slipped out the door, it was with a lighter heart than before.

 

            The drive to the MRUA was tense for him, and not just because of the frustration of dealing with traffic. He'd considered putting on some music and fiddled with the radio for a little while, but every station just seemed to agitate him more and more. In the end he had to shut it off. That left nothing to distract him, and he decided to spend the hour-long commute composing an argument in his head. The blur of passing cars and the repetitive nature of the highway helped to calm his nerves. He'd already come up with several good points by the time he pulled into the parking lot. 

 

            Walking into the MRUA's lobby was much the same as yesterday. Very few workers were here as it was a Saturday, the only other people in the large room three men in business casual talking with styrofoam cups in hand and a young receptionist who offered him a polite smile as he passed by. "Welcome to the Mermatological Research Unit's Aquarium, Sir. We're open from six thirty AM to eight o'clock PM. Please enjoy your stay, and don't hesitate to ask me or other staff members for anything."

 

            "Thank you, Ma'am." He returned her smile with a nod, not stopping. She'd probably assumed that he was one of the countless visitors the MRUA received on a daily basis. He couldn't fault her for it. His flannel and jeans didn't exactly scream 'employee'. It wasn't worth either of their time to correct her, and it was strangely relieving to know that he wasn't here often enough to be recognized by the staff. He grimaced, knowing that might be changing soon. 

 

            Will nudged the button for the elevator, toe tapping against the tiles as he watched the digital display read off the floor numbers it had to pass before reaching him. The doors finally glided open with a cheery ding. On the other side were four office workers who broke off their conversation, two of them scooting over to make room for him. Though inside he was dismayed, he stepped into the open space and adjusted his glasses without complaint. 

 

            One man with close cropped brown hair glanced back over his shoulder. "What floor?"

 

            "Second, thanks."

 

            There was silence after the man poked the right button with a knuckle, leaving it and the one with a three lit up. The awkwardness that can only come from multiple strangers being packed into a small space hovered in the air. Another older man was eyeing him from the side, and Will knew that he was about to ask him something even as he hoped he wouldn't. 

 

            "So. Here to see the mer?" His gravelly voice wrapped around the words, tempering their edges into something less invasive than a stranger's question should be. Though none of the others spoke, it was obvious that they were listening.

 

            From his tone, he could tell that he'd made the same mistake as the receptionist. He toyed with the idea of leaving it be, but realized that a man his age coming to the MRUA this early alone probably seemed more than a little odd. "I'm here to meet with Crawford, actually." 

 

            His greying eyebrows rose, the mildly patronizing expression shifting into something more impressed. "Well good luck to you." 

 

            Just in time, the elevator stopped at the second floor. "Thanks." He brushed by the man who'd pushed the button and walked away, hearing the doors slide closed. 

 

            When he and Jack had been on this floor before, they'd gone down the hall on his left. It was the most direct way to reach the hundred thousand gallon tank Hannibal was in, and he hadn't forgotten their agreement. But this time he continued going straight, approaching the mouth of the long tunnel cutting through the center of the main tank. There was a tunnel just like it on every floor, but this one ended right in front of Jack's office. Even better, this path was hardly ever used by employees. 

 

            Passing through the broad arch of marble at its start always gave Will a tingling feeling, like butterflies taking flight in his stomach and fluttering against its walls with their wings. From the moment he entered what was essentially a long s-shaped tube of glass, he was nearly overwhelmed by an intense surge of energy. At the heart of one point six million gallons of water, his attribute was practically singing with it, adrenaline flooding his veins. Already he could sense thousands of sparks perking up in his presence. Carefully staying as close to the center of the tunnel as he could, he warily stared out into the murky blue.

 

            The first things to arrive were the tiny fish whose only purpose here was to act as ambience. A few feet in, he was accompanied by a swarm of them. Various species grouped together, darting around the walls and floor. Their small bodies shimmered as they twisted and zipped up to the glass, trying futilely to reach him.

 

            The further he went, the larger his school grew. The fish joining it were getting bigger too. Now he could see both predator and prey flocking around him, an entire ecosystem temporarily overthrown in the desperation to approach. No species could resist. A rainbow of tropical fish swam alongside swordfish and sharks, an octopus' suckers stuck to the top of the arch as it pulled itself along, the bright yellow-green of a Moray eel danced in the corner of his eye. A dark shadow fell over them all as an enormous manta ray glided overhead, its massive wings flapping up and down in a slow-motion parody of a bird's. 

 

            Will looked down to his feet and nearly had a heart attack. The MRU had spared no expense at making the mer as comfortable as possible, no matter where they were from, and had brought in fish from their regions of the ocean to act as companions and make the tanks feel that much closer to home. And Will's attribute had just dredged up some of the weirdest creatures in the world, those from the bottom of the sea. A host of them pressed up against the glass, most of them he didn't have a name for. A few of the more recognizable ones stood out to him, like a toothy angler fish with its light bobbing in front of its face.

 

            Standing in the center of this chaos was incredible. Every individual life brushed against his and glowed in his mind, and that was with him _holding back_. He was exerting barely any of his power, and still it had this great of an impact. If he ever truly let go in one of these tunnels, there was no telling what could happen. As it was, the psychic noise pressed against the sides of his skull in a thrum he could feel behind his eyes.

 

            He'd gotten halfway through before the vast school suddenly broke away, leaving only the most daring behind. Out in the distance he could see a dark silhouette gradually coming closer and closer. Facing straight ahead, he did his best to ignore it. Then a brown hand lightly tapped at the glass.

 

            Turning, he glanced over to find a black mermaid swimming alongside him. Her hair was worn short and came down to the tops of her shoulders, tight curls bouncing around her head as she moved. She beamed at him, pleased to have gotten his attention. Will couldn't stop himself from staring at her lower half in awe.

 

            A kelp-green Leafy Sea Dragon's tail flowed out behind her. Long fans of opaque membrane resembling leaves branched off of it and gently swayed from side to side in her wake. Ordinary Sea Dragons were a foot long at most and moved slowly. It was only due to her knobbed tail's larger proportions that she was able to keep pace with him, and even then she was falling slightly behind. The size differences between mer and their counterparts was a fascinating topic for scientists. While they could be bigger than humans, a _lot_ bigger, they were never smaller. It gave them an opportunity to see the bodies of tiny creatures replicated on a large scale. And it made these types of mer interesting in ways nothing else could be.

 

            She was soon joined by other species, the equivalent of a small mer clan trailing him as he walked over the glass. He could see angel fish, blue tangs, butterfly fish, trigger fish, even a lion fish, though it swam further apart from the others to avoid harming them. They would come and go, the mer's curious natures driving them to investigate while their intelligence allowed them to quickly access the situation. Some of them left looking disgruntled with him for distracting them from whatever they'd been doing while others' faces lit up when they saw it was a human who'd called them here. He'd seen at least fifty different mer by the time he reached the tunnel's end.

 

            The Sea Dragon girl had stayed with him all the while. She waved goodbye to him enthusiastically, her tail streaming behind her and delicately drifting in an unseen current in direct contrast to her excitement. He waved back and watched with a tiny smile as she lazily swam away.

 

            This was something he'd just gotten used to whenever visiting the MRUA. Every time he had to walk through the tunnel with other people it was almost embarrassing, the looks they gave him making him feel like he wasn't human. Sometimes, looking out at the mer so eager for him to join them and desiring the same thing, he wondered if it couldn't be true.

 

            Now that he was opposite the entrance, he found himself standing on the lane in front of Jack's office. A part of him was tempted to skip heading to the tank Hannibal was in and just knock on the door. Getting through this conversation would be much easier without an audience, and not having to translate for both parties would make things simpler too. Unfortunately, his conscience nagged at him and had his feet carrying him down the hall to the left anyway. 

 

            As he'd started at the back, the first hall to branch off led to the tank he was looking for. Standing in front of the door, he had an irrational urge to knock as though entering someone's room instead of going in to look at an oversized fish tank. He walked in, eyes cast down to the floor in expectation of another's gaze on him. "Okay, I'm here. Let's get this over with." It was then that he noticed the grate by the door. 

 

            The lane from outside connected to this tank, though it dipped down several feet beneath the floor in the small hallway. All of the side tanks were designed this way, meant to be places for mer to gather and explore or even isolate themselves if need be. The MRU could use them to enforce isolation as well. By each door was a code activated switch that would raise or lower a thick metal grate, severing a tank from the lane and keeping its occupants inside. It was why Hannibal had been placed in this particular tank, giving him enough space to move without risking him entering the main tank or killing any more than he already had. The grate was the only thing separating the nineteen foot long Great White from the mer he had seen earlier.

 

            It was lowered all the way, the top of it peaking out of a slat in the ground. Alarmed, Will's head snapped up to the switch. It'd been flicked down. Someone had done this. Then it dawned on him to check the tank. His eyes darted over to it with dread.

 

            Hannibal was already gone.

 

            Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he calmed himself. _Think. Who would want to do this?_ As far as he knew, the only people involved in Hannibal's integration into the MRUA had been Jack, Chilton, and himself. He didn't know the code, but Jack did. Chilton he was unsure of. He'd been made a temporary handler of sorts, so him having it wouldn't be too much to assume. One way or another, there was only one place for him to go.

 

            He turned and rushed to Jack's office, feet following the lane as he retraced his steps. Without bothering to knock, he burst in. "Jack, there's-"

 

            At his desk, Jack looked up with mild surprise, waiting for him to continue. But he was too busy focusing on his guests.

 

            In a chair across from Jack, Chilton sat with his back to him, twisting around to look at his incredulous expression with a smirk. "Mister Graham! How nice of you to join us. We were just talking about you." He ignored the obvious barb for what it was, an attempt to rile him, in favor of staring into the large tank forming the right wall of Jack's office. 

 

            Hannibal stared back at him, the definition of calm. He rose to the water's surface, fingers curling around the glass edges where the lid had been removed. "Hello, Will." At the sound of his voice, Jack and Chilton turned to look at him as well.

 

            Will wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "I thought we were meeting at the tank." The attention shifted back to him, the other two missing the way Hannibal narrowed his eyes.

 

            "We were, but that man-" He gestured loftily to Crawford. "-had other plans. Yesterday you called him Jack. What is that man's name?" Inclining his head, he indicated Chilton.

 

            With a sigh, Will ran a hand down his face, feeling incredibly stupid for having worried about Hannibal getting out. Of course Jack had decided to bring him into this. What he didn't understand was why the good doctor had tagged along. "That's Doctor Frederick Chilton. Jack's full name is Jack Crawford, and he's head of the MRU."

 

            At the mention of his name, Jack quickly used the opening to take control of the situation. "Good to know you're both comfortable speaking in front of us. Will, take a seat."

 

            He hesitated, fingers curling around the doorframe like anchors hitting the sand. But eventually he let go and crossed the room, dragging his feet over the carpet with every step. The only chair available to him was conveniently located both directly before Jack and between Hannibal and Chilton. His nerves soared and his hands clenched tightly on his thighs. All of the arguments he'd come up with on the way there had escaped and left his mind blank, panic rising to take their place. The sting of blunt nails digging into his palms helped to ground him in the moment.

 

            Across from him, Jack steepled his fingers and leaned over his desk. "Just now, what did you say?"

 

            "He asked about your names and I answered." Shrugging his shoulders, he hunched down and tapped a finger against the denim of his jeans. His eyes had safely locked onto the shiny nameplate at the edge of Jack's desk the moment he sat down, tracing over the bold golden letters embellished on the brass. "His name is Hannibal Lecter. I also mentioned that you're the MRU's head."

 

            Jack blinked, turning the new information over in his mind. "So... Hannibal... knows about the MRU. How?"

 

            "Yesterday he asked me where we were, so I told him."

 

            His gaze sharpened on his face. "What _exactly_ did you tell him." Anger hid in the nuance of his tone.

 

            Defensively, Will raised his eyes to the buttons of his suit jacket. "Jack, I know better than to give away anything too important. I just said it was an isolation tank at the MRU's aquarium."

 

            "You said it just like that, the MRU's aquarium." 

 

            He hesitated, eyes drifting back down to his hands. "...No. I said the Mermatology Research Unit."

 

            Will jumped as Jack slammed his palm against the desk. " _Anything too important?!_ Will, what were you thinking? He knows he's being researched. That sounds pretty damn important to me!"

 

            He opened his mouth to spit out a bitter retort that he'd probably end up regretting, but was distracted by knocking on the glass walls of the tank. Glancing over, he could see Hannibal frowning as he focused on Crawford. "Will, what is Jack so vexed about?"

 

            "He's angry because you know you're being researched." Sliding his glasses off, he pushed the heel of his palm against one of his eyes, wishing more than anything that this conversation could be over and done with. He was stuck in a room with Jack Crawford, a mer shark, and a psychiatrist. It was like something out of a ridiculous nightmare.

 

            Hannibal scoffed lightly, tail flicking with irritation. "I would like you to tell him that this has carried little impact."

 

            He stared at him. "Seriously?"

 

            "Yes. You do not deserve to be scolded for something that will not affect me in any way."

 

            "Will, what's he saying?" Jack had calmed during their brief discussion.

 

            With a groan, he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and turned to face him again. "He says it doesn't matter, so you shouldn't worry about it."

 

            Now it was Jack's turn to stare at Hannibal. "Ask him why it doesn't matter."

 

            "Jack-"

 

            "Do it." There was no room for compromise.

 

            Will just barely held himself back from leaping up and pacing the room. Instead he twisted to look into the tank. "Why doesn't this affect you?"

 

            Eyes never leaving Jack, he gave a logical reply. "Because I do not care. My behavior will not change either way, and this knowledge would not aide in any attempts to escape. In fact, I find the notion so intriguing that it makes me consider cooperating." His expression was pensive as he slowly added a thoughtful amendment. "...With a few conditions, of course."

 

            Though the last part struck him as highly suspicious, he dutifully relayed the news to Jack. "Apparently it won't change anything and might be enough to get him to cooperate if we agree to his terms."

 

            "Terms?" Beside him Chilton sat up straighter and eased forward, bright eyes focused on Hannibal before flicking over to Will. "What kind of terms?"

 

            In all honesty, Will had forgotten that he was even there. He grimaced, not wanting to give him anything but also interested in finding out. He asked the question. "When you say 'conditions', what do you mean...?"

 

            He hummed contemplatively, tail gently stirring the water and sloshing it against the glass. "At the moment, I have three stipulations. Firstly I require the ability to freely come and go from the isolation tank."

 

            "Jack's not going to like that." He frowned as the warning went ignored. "Fine." Glancing to Crawford, he continued in English. "Three things. First, he wants you to let him leave the tank."

 

            "What?" Just as he'd though, Jack wasn't having it. "I don't know if he's noticed, but he's a nineteen foot long mer shark. Killed two other mer sharks after he got here too. How do I know he won't kill again?"

 

            "You don't." Chilton's eyes gleamed. "I don't think you should let him out at all. He's a killing machine and a threat to the mer in your tanks. The BSALM is where he needs to be."

 

            "A killing machine?" Will laughed dryly. "Doctor, I expected better of you. He may be a predator, but as we both know, that doesn't really mean anything. The BSALM is for mer we've completely confirmed are dangerous. With Hannibal, we don't even know why he killed in the first place."

 

            He sniffed, clearly offended. "Why don't you ask him then?"

 

            "Okay, I _will._ " All of this translating was about to give him a headache. "Why did you kill those two mer sharks and how can we trust you not to kill again?"

 

            "I killed those I was left with because one of them attacked me and the other assisted. As for the rest of the mer, they should be safe as long as they do not try to do the same." Will squinted at his chin, hearing a lie but unsure of which parts were the truth. Hannibal watched him, face inscrutable as ever. 

 

            "...Hannibal says he was attacked by the other sharks and won't kill unless he's attacked again."

 

            Jack's brows rose in disbelief. " _Both_ sharks? Tobias I could see, but _Franklin?_ He could barely hurt the fish he was eating. I find that a little hard to swallow."

 

            Shrugging miserably, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, knees bumping the wood of Jack's desk. "I've never met either of those mer, but that's what Hannibal told me. He mentioned one 'assisting'. Maybe that was Franklin, trying to help his friend?"

 

            He slowly nodded, lips pulling down at the corners. "Tell him I'll allow it."

 

            Chilton was dismayed. "But what if-"

 

            "Doctor." Jack's gaze went steely to match his tone. "While I appreciate your insight, I haven't forgotten that you invited yourself to my office this morning. Don't push it."

 

            Well that answered one question. He sealed his mouth, but pouted all the while.

 

            Turning from the pleasing spectacle, he addressed Hannibal. "Jack agrees to your first condition. What's the second one?"

 

            For a split second, his eyes flashed with triumph. "I will answer your questions, but reserve the right to choose which ones. I refuse to perform for you or follow commands." Beneath the calm exterior, traces of disgust colored his final words.

 

            Eyeing him closely, he passed along the message. "Next, he's willing to answer questions but only the ones he wants to. He won't be trained or take orders either."

 

            "Really? Ask him what this language is called." Almost as an afterthought, he tacked a mutter onto the end. "It's annoying to go back and forth like this."

 

            Will sighed and stared at the knot in Chilton's tie. "I can answer that, actually. There isn't one. While there are certain dialects, they only speak one language, so they don't need to name it." He shrugged. "I just call it Mer."

 

            "More importantly-" Jack broke in with heat in his voice. "-we won't be able to train him. I can see why he wouldn't want us to, but that's one of the only things giving our handlers a sense of safety. It's easy to forget, but mer are dangerous, a Great White more than anything. We can't just take that away and expect someone to work with him."

 

            He frowned, knowing he was right. "The right to choose which questions is okay, but Jack's worried that without training none of our handlers will want to work with you. It's not as safe."

 

            "I have a solution for him in the form of a third condition." The fins of his ears fanned out briefly with excitement. "I want you to be my 'handler' and mine alone. I will not work with anyone else, mer or otherwise."

 

            Traitorous mouth on autopilot, he didn't stop to think before repeating his words. "For his third condition, he won't work with anyone but me and doesn't want me to be a handler for any other mer." In the silence that followed, his eyes widened while the realization of what he'd just said sunk in. "Wait."

 

            Crawford's eyes locked onto him as he placed his palms flat on the desk and leaned in. Before he could say a word, Will's skittish gaze darted over to him and he cut him off. "Jack, no."

 

            "Will-"

 

           " _No_." He could feel himself start to sweat. This was the exact opposite of anything he would ever want to do. Desperately, he searched for a way out. "Look, maybe I can talk to Hannibal, convince him to choose someone else..."

 

            From the tank, sanguine eyes watched them silently. "I'm sorry, but I will not accept anything else." It seemed he had picked up on the nature of his resistance. He reasoned with him softly. "Can you blame me for wanting to work with the only one here who understands me?"

 

            "I-"

 

            "Will, you don't have a choice. This is a chance to learn information that we'll never have again. If you hadn't been hiding this ability, we would've made you a handler a long time ago." Will scoffed. That was why he hadn't told any of them. Jack ignored it and didn't relent. "Besides, your water attribute is the strongest I've ever seen. You're perfect for this."

 

            "If it's about the attribute, then why not go with Chilton?!" He thrust a hand toward him, eyes on Jack's chest. "He's the one who lured Hannibal in, why doesn't he work with him here?"

 

            Beside him, Chilton seemed surprised to have apparently gained his favor. He grinned reassuringly at Jack, crossing his legs at the knee. "He's got a point. I think that if Mister Graham were to smooth things over between us, we could work together quite well."

 

            Hannibal chose that moment to speak up. "If you are suggesting that Frederick become my handler, the answer is no." His upper lip curled dangerously, hints of pointed white teeth peeking out from behind it.

 

            Jack watched him all the while and nodded when he finished speaking. "That didn't look or sound like a yes to me. Sorry doctor, but I have to agree with Hannibal on this. Will is our best option. Will?"

 

            The entire room held its breath as the attention shifted back to him, the weight of three pairs of eyes practically crushing him. His gaze flickered from face to face, reading them for any weaknesses. Chilton was despondent and envious. Jack was firm and unwavering, convinced that he was right. Hannibal was patiently waiting, yet filled with anticipation. None of it provided any answers or ways to escape this. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he slumped down in his seat. "...Okay."

 

            Jack grinned in the face of his quiet defeat, easing back into his seat as the tension bled away. "Tell him that you'll be working with him." A clever gleam entered his eyes. "But with a condition of my own. You'll both be working with other mer. I can't afford to waste this opportunity."

 

            Will did as he was told. "I'm going to be your handler. But we're both working with other mer." He was too tired to put much effort into paraphrasing.

 

            Though he didn't look pleased, Hannibal gave them an elegant nod. Will knew that he didn't need to translate. The battle was over, and he was on the losing team. Standing sluggishly, he was just about to leave when Chilton spoke again.

 

            "One moment, Mister Graham. We still need to discuss a few things."

 

            Looking to Jack and finding nothing but neutrality, he slowly took his seat. "Like what?"

 

            "We've finalized arrangements with the MRU, but what about my aquarium? I have several studies to conduct and a couple of visits will be necessary."

 

            Jack looked at him incredulously. "Dr. Chilton, we've already decided that Hannibal isn't leaving our tanks."

 

            He laughed, hands waving in front of him. "No, no, you misunderstood. I meant visits from Mister Graham - may I call you Will?"

 

            He stared at him, horrified. "No."

 

            "To the visits, or your name?" Chilton's smirk made him want to wipe the smug expression off his face.

 

            "Both! I'm not some science experiment! You can't just cart me off to the nearest _lab_." He bolted from his seat and threw his arms out to the sides, amazed that he would even _think_ he might say yes _._

            "But you're an undocumented case, never before seen, maybe never seen again! I can't afford to let you slip away." He rose as well, both men staring each other down.

 

            "Settle down." Jack stood behind his desk, voice booming. "Clearly Will doesn't want to do this. I'm sorry, Chilton, but you can't force him to." 

 

            "Fine. At least a blood sample, then?" They all watched in shock as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe, uncapping it and walking toward him.

 

            " _What?! No!_ " Will retreated, but before he got very far his back collided with the fish tank. His eyes screwed shut as the doctor approached.

 

            A loud splash cut through the air, hands curling gently around his shoulders. By his ear came an animalistic snarl that made his blood run cold. He opened his eyes to find Chilton absolutely soaked and staring at him with fear. No, not him. Hannibal.

 

            Hannibal had pulled himself up to lean out of the tank, arms wrapping around him as furious red eyes dared Chilton to come any closer. His teeth flashed in a silent threat of what would happen if he did. Their cheeks were nearly touching, silken locks of hair tickling his skin.

 

            Somehow, he managed to find his voice. "Doctor, you need to leave." Internally he was impressed with himself; it was shaky, but only toward the end.

 

            Chilton quickly capped the syringe and slipped it back into his pocket. "I can see that." His voice was shaky too. "I'm going, but I'll be back." He turned on his heel and hurried out in as dignified a manner as he could while fleeing in terror and soaking wet.

 

            The arms around him relaxed once he was out of sight, but didn't pull away. Heat rose to his cheeks as the moment stretched on. Eventually he cleared his throat, awkwardly raising a fist to cover his mouth. Hannibal released him to silently sink down into the tank, fingers still clutching the edges of the glass. Now that he wasn't touching him, Will noticed the splotches of water he'd unintentionally left behind, dotting his flannel and causing it to cling to his skin. He grimaced, knowing he'd be left with an unpleasant soggy feeling until it dried.

 

            Meanwhile, Jack surveyed the damage to his carpet with his hands balled at his hips. He sighed and turned to them, eyes narrowing as they found Hannibal. Will glanced back to find an innocent expression on his face and nearly snorted. "Will, walk Hannibal back to the hundred thousand tank. I've got a mess to clean."

 

            And now, here they were. Pointlessly arguing. He couldn't help but smile at the memory, lowering his arms as humor cut through his anger. "I know it wasn't your fault, but still. Definitely _not_ what we agreed to. It should've been me and Jack in that office, alone."

 

            "Again, I believe that I had every right to be there. As for Frederick's involvement..." His voice lowered darkly. "That is something we all could have done without."

 

            Will went back to leaning on the railing, his surge of rage already draining away. "You don't like him at all, huh." His fingers threaded together and tightened. "Is that why you keep trying to defend me from him?"

 

            "I dislike Frederick because of how rude he has been. I know that you dislike him too. When he came toward you with a needle, I felt that I needed to... Protect you." Hannibal's eyes rose and met his own for the split second he didn't look away.

 

            His scowl returned. "Well, thanks, but I don't need your protection. We're work partners. Just keep it professional."

 

           Hannibal chuckled and resumed his swimming with idle strokes of his fins. "Or we could socialize like adults. God forbid we become friendly."

 

            Will bristled and straightened out, fingers circling cool metal. He had no intentions of playing nice with a mer shark, even if this one was different from any mer he'd ever met. "I don't find you that interesting."

 

            It was a flat out lie, and both knew it. Hannibal stopped and gave him a smile laden with meaning. He shuddered to think of what that meaning could be. "You will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we've officially reached the end of chapter one! I took some of the dialogue at the end from episode one of the show. As I've already said, all of the chapters have been planned out, but for this next chapter I'm still arranging and grouping the events. I have a pretty good idea of where I'm starting though. In chapter two, look forward to Hannibal's POV, even more mer facts, and some scenes and characters from the show that we didn't get to see with Will. Also, for those who don't know, Leafy Sea Dragons are super cool and look like [this](https://www.google.com/search?hl=en&authuser=0&site=imghp&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1242&bih=572&q=leafy+sea+dragon&oq=leafy+&gs_l=img.1.0.0l10.853.2793.0.4388.6.6.0.0.0.0.136.724.0j6.6.0....0...1ac.1.58.img..0.6.720.LRSHaBu2sik)! They're really neat.


	9. Shark Skin - I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one is shorter than it could have been, but I wanted to break it up a bit because I'm busy and impatient. We're going back in time. Like, all the way to the beginning. Hannibal's past will be explained, adapted to fit the story obviously, but some key sections will be unchanged so if you don't already know what happened you've been warned. 
> 
> This part is unbeta-ed, and speaking of that I would really like to get some betas??? I already have a friend who betas a lot of my things, but I'm hoping to get more to be thorough I guess. If you're interested just message me on [tumblr](http://visceralviscaria.tumblr.com/)! :D
> 
> We're learning more about mer society here as well as a lot of shark facts, because I love them. I'm still not entirely sold on this part. I might rewrite it, I might just move forward with the story and come back later, I might not edit it at all. Hannibal ended up doing a lot of things I hadn't planned on. Once I started writing it just kind of... took over.
> 
> Chapter two will contain time jumps and eventually end where chapter one did.

***

 

            Awareness was a gentle thing, coming to him slowly in its own time. He was warm, yet closed in, trapped in this space just a bit too tight for him even as he curled in on himself to the best of his abilities. A vague sense of motion would rouse him at times, at others lull him into a deep and easy sleep. Though he didn't yet know what it was, something outside of this place was calling to him, beckoning silently to his very being. And of course, there was sound, a near constant, heavy pulse surrounding him, muffled voices coming from what seemed to be worlds away.

 

            His first impressions were of a calming environment. There was no pressing urgency to escape, no obvious threat lingering, no tempting sensations begging to be explored. His mind was singing songs of contentment. Even more importantly, of _safety_.

 

            But he wasn't here to feel safe. From somewhere deep inside of him, the most base, primal instincts were slowly emerging, impossible to ignore and just as impossible to resist. He was not here to drift in a comfortable oblivion. He was here to survive. To _eat_. 

 

            Hannibal Lecter opened his eyes for the very first time.

 

            And was immediately greeted by a thick film of pale yellow, opaque and almost white where it stretched over his body and struggled to hold him in. This new awareness of his position was highly uncomfortable and he was only too happy to tear through the obstruction with his teeth. For the first time he was free of the membrane of his egg.

 

            All around him was darkness, his newfound eyesight made useless almost as soon as it had arrived. But his other senses were quick to compensate. A keen nose and wandering fingers helped him to map out his surroundings. Alarmingly enough, he was not alone. Clusters of other round, slippery eggs were everywhere, some empty and lifeless while nine others responded to his touch and twitched. A few were even swollen with pups nearly as large as he was.

 

            For another, so new as he, this would have been an amazing discovery. Not only was he not alone, but these were potential siblings, all the same as him while remaining unique. For him though, it meant something completely different but no less amazing. These were all threats to his survival. If they were to hatch, they would devour him and anything else within reach. 

 

            Just as he would do to them.

 

            There was no way of knowing how much earlier he had hatched, but he did not have the luxury of finding out. Instead he began to feast on those nearest his size, the only ones capable of challenging his birthright of life and dominance. As the serrated points of his teeth pierced their eggs, and then their skin, they would thrash feebly, not quite ready to awaken. The first salty tang of blood spilled out into the fluids around them and as soon as it flooded his small mouth and rolled over his taste buds, there was no going back.

 

            He worked his way backward in order of size, feeling no rush and allowing his single food source to grow. Inversely, Hannibal could feel himself growing larger as he consumed the small bodies of his unborn brethren. Yet as time went on the only eggs left were cold and barren. He ate these as well of course, prioritizing hunger over taste without realizing it, but they were nowhere near as satisfying. They burst and gave him their liquids and membranes and that was it. There was something missing, even in the first eggs. No challenge, no fight, no need to do... Something, this mysterious something that left him so unsatisfied.

 

            It was only in the last few days, though he didn't know this, that he understood. Hannibal had been born first because he was superior to those he had eaten. He was meant to take in their wasted strength, and now he was stronger because of it. But they were weak and could not resist. If he truly wanted to grow stronger, better, larger than the rest, he had to eat things that were hard to catch and kill. He needed to hunt down the things at the top and take their place. Though lacking the ability to voice this, his sudden sense of self could be described in two words.

 

            Apex predator.

 

            Then three days later the eggs ran out. His dangerous confidence went with it. Now he felt truly alone, trapped inside of this empty place with no way out. Small hands, bigger than they had been, pressed against the fleshy, soft walls to no avail. He could still hear things going on beyond, even feeling the occasional press of something against his outstretched fins. It was frustrating to be so close to what he _knew_ was freedom and have no way of reaching it.

 

            The next day that was hardly his greatest concern. Hannibal was woken by faint tremors that shivered the walls around him. They would come and go, at first leaving him anxious, then annoyed, then anxious again as they grew in intensity. Now he was being squeezed on all sides. Not painfully, but enough to make him wince at the strangeness of it all. This would change as the pressure grew and grew, and now he was being moved toward a certain spot against his will, an opening that he had somehow missed if it had ever existed in the first place.

 

            He wanted to squirm and retaliate but sensed that fighting would only prolong this. That same knowledge of his need to eat now told him to go along with whatever was happening. The farther he got from the only place he'd ever known, the colder it became. And then all at once he burst into a world he'd never imagined.

 

            His eyes blinked in the sudden light. Around him were larger versions of things that looked like him, _much_ larger. A mere five feet long, everything seemed so _big,_ but especially them. Hannibal was incredibly cold, shivering violently and unable to do anything about it. And it was so hard to breathe. He had taken this simple thing for granted, but now he desperately pulled water over his gills as he darted about in small circles.

 

            A pair of impossibly warm hands wrapped around him and pulled him up toward the light. He was thankful if only for the new speed's increasing of the oxygen circulating through his veins. They finally broke free of the surface and he couldn't contain his gasp. His lungs thanked him profusely, but were ignored in favor of the sight before him.

 

            Blue spanned across the whole sky, scattered with broken patches of grey. The ocean spread out as far as the eye could see on his left while to his right was a stretch of brown and white that he knew was different from the sea. Gulls circled overhead, crying out to each other and diving down into the waves. This glimpse was all it took for him to realize that the world was far greater than he had so arrogantly assumed and wouldn't be conquered by him any time soon. So much beauty surrounded him that he didn't know where to look, eyes trying to take it all in at once.

 

            Meanwhile the one holding him up drew his attention with a soft sound. He glanced up and found himself staring directly into the face of a woman. She was smiling, tears in her eyes, and as she made another sound he knew that she was his mother. Hannibal stared into her eyes and was startled by what he saw. This was love, the pure and selfless love of a mother for her child, and its beauty dwarfed that of anything he had ever seen. This was love when all he had known until now was survival and death. It took a hand rising to brush his cheek for him to realize he was crying.

 

            Another rose, male this time, and made noises to her. Both looked to him, and then he knew that this was his father. They swam over to him and he was held in their arms, his fragile body warming in their embrace. Staring out across the open water, speckled with chunks of white breaking away from the long strip to the side and drifting over, all shining in the weak light of the sun, he thought that perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps, instead of climbing the food chain, this was what it meant to live.

 

            Over the next few years this would be proven. Even at his young age he showed intelligence and an eagerness to learn. With his parents' help, he learned to understand that their sounds were words and began speaking himself. Hannibal was soon able to tell them his name, and they told him that it had been given to him by the sea itself. He also learned that the drive he felt to hunt and dominate was natural in all Great Whites though it was agreed that he was more voracious than most. Usually at least three pups were born at a time, but whenever only one was born this was a sign that the child would grow to be incredibly healthy and strong. His mother was especially proud of him and her unspoken happiness made him proud as well.

 

            His parents were the dominant family of a large clan, naturally taking the lead and well respected by their community. Things such as power and social structure were more intuited than explicitly stated in both families and clans. It could be seen in instinctive actions of deference that their prestige had been passed to him, helped along by his eloquence and the way in which he carried himself. Though he was still small it was common to see the younger mer accept this easily, rolling onto their backs to appease him on the rare occasions that he was displeased and never attempting to approach him from below, a sign of aggression and disrespect. Even the Vona, those who could give birth and were naturally larger, and therefore held more power, would give him, a Vonus, his space.

 

            Hannibal had quickly been taught to regulate his body temperature, making the freezing waters of the Baltic Sea first tolerable, then pleasant, and allowing him to brush by massive chunks of ice with no difficulty as he joined the hunt for seals rich in fat and meat. The low oxygen levels that had made him panic before now felt natural and right, as did the decreased saltiness due to a constant stream of freshwater from the melting ice. Still, he knew that this was not the place the Great Whites were meant to be, something deep in his bones longing for warmer, oxygen rich waters and whispering the directions that would take him there.

 

            Other members of his clan felt the same, his parents included. There appeared to be a roughly even split amongst the families that wanted to go and the families that wanted to stay. After a long, drawn out meeting to discuss the possibilities, it was decided that they would break apart temporarily while one group migrated.

 

            Having never known that migration was something mer clans did, Hannibal was amazed to hear of trips in which crossing the ocean and visiting the shores of distant continents was a regular, seasonal thing. Splitting was common as well if not all families wanted to go or follow the same route. With stories of tropical waters teeming with schools of rainbow colored fish being passed down to the children in the group that would leave, they were all eager to depart.

 

            Passing through the mouth of the sea he had come to view as his home made him suddenly aware that he was very small. The world that had seemed so vast when he first saw it was only a tiny portion of the mighty ocean, her omnipresent tug even stronger in open waters. He was more eager than ever to explore and to know. Sparing one last glance for those who had come to say goodbye, he looked forward to whatever lay ahead.

 

            Instantly he could feel the change. The consistently rising salinity had already left him feeling good, but now he was breathing so easily that it was _wrong_. Marveling at the ease with which he could move, he found that he was faster than ever before. This was both good and bad, helping him to hunt difficult prey but also making him want to push himself to travel further than the rest of the clan desired. This wasn't hard to do as his parents were taking the opportunity this migration provided to slip away into the depths for time alone. They weren't the only couple doing this either. It left all of the younger mer confused, but whenever they asked about it they were told that this was simply because they were mates. Nothing had been explained and it seemed that nothing would be.

 

            With the freedom his parents' absence gave him, Hannibal took his time mapping out the areas they stopped in along their journey. He never went near the shore, as he had been warned not to repeatedly, but now there were strange droning sounds in the water that he couldn't identify. Far too curious for his own good, he would cautiously follow them back to the source, never coming close enough to touch. Flat, rectangular shapes tapering to points drifted overhead. Some were small, just barely longer than him, some were bigger than anything he had ever seen, even the few times he had encountered a whale. And then they would turn on whirring, curved blades and move quicker than he had thought possible. It was all so off, so unnatural that he wanted to investigate. So he moved back until he was sure that whatever it was wouldn't spot him and then peeked up out of the water.

 

            This was not the flat, tapering rectangle that he had been expecting. This was an enormous beast with sloping sides lined with short cage walls, with large flat areas and tall boxy ones, with long arms that leaned out over the side and dangled nets, with holes cut into it and filled with glass. It made a long, low sound that shattered the stillness in the air and made him twitch at how deafening it was.

 

            It was also swarming with smaller things that he couldn't quite see, like an animal covered in parasites. Hannibal gradually swam closer, using his sharp eyes to pick out details from far away. What he saw was more surprising than the beast itself. These small animals looked like him from the waist up. But from the waist down they had no tail, only two long stubby things that they moved around on. Their voices carried over the waves and sounded interesting. Hannibal knew that they were speaking, but there was no way of knowing what was said. Their words rolled over his skin and after the initial fascination wore off he found them grating. Staring up at the creatures for a few more minutes, he left to tell the others what he'd discovered.

 

            When he returned his parents were furious and worried, his mother especially. She pulled him to her chest and held him there, explaining that he needed to stay away from them. The rectangles were not the beasts he had assumed them to be. Instead they were lifeless objects known as 'boats'. Those crawling over and in it were humans and were the apex predators of the land. Mostly harmless, but they could be incredibly dangerous at times. The humans had certain laws and rules that kept them from hunting them, but only in certain places. Now Hannibal understood that he shared his position at the top of the food chain. 

 

            It was frustrating. These _humans_ may have been masters of the land, but the sea was _theirs_. His predatory instincts told him that without their boats and nets they would be vulnerable in the water, flailing about slowly and unsuited to swimming at high speeds. So one night he lingered nearer to the shore than he was meant to and waited.

 

            Several boats crossed his path. He examined each with shining eyes made to cut through the darkness. The first few were too big, using those whirring blades, _fans_ , to move swiftly. The next three were smaller, but had too many humans and still used the fans. Then sanguine eyes narrowed as one glided toward him slowly. This boat lacked a fan, instead having a white triangle on a tall stick that billowed gently in the wind. Even better, there was only one human on board, already leaning on what he had learned was a railing. _Perfect_.

 

            Hannibal dipped down beneath the surface, mindful of the fin on his back, and swam over smoothly. The waves were calm tonight. So when he wanted to get the human's attention all he had to do was bump the side loudly. As they leaned over dangerously far, he swam down and prepared himself, muscles coiled like a spring. _Now._

            With a sudden burst of speed he flew up out of the water and bit down on one of the human's arms, dragging them over the side with his teeth. They cried out in a high pitched voice, a female most likely. He released her and circled from a distance, intent on observing. It was difficult to restrain his impulse to feed with her blood staining his lips and the water red. Still, he needed to gauge his enemy's strength.

 

            For an apex predator of the land, she was very weak. Every movement was accompanied by loud splashing sounds and gasps of pain. Her appendages flailed uselessly, only just managing to keep her head above the surface. He was curious about that. Apparently the humans lacked gills, having only lungs, and couldn't breathe underwater. It made him wonder why they bothered taking the risk of drifting around on the open sea in the first place.

 

            Hannibal watched her futile struggle until he grew bored. Then he made his presence known, rising up a few feet ahead of her. Her eyes widened with fear when he smiled, knowing the moonlight would illuminate his teeth. He made quick work of her, ignoring her shrill screams that made his sensitive ears ring. With his stomach full and his scraps tossing on the waves in a dissipating pool of crimson, he found satisfaction at last. The balance had been restored and even one as young as he could conquer. Humans were not the masters of the sea. When he reached his clan and found them still asleep he knew that he had gotten away with his little experiment. They continued their journey the next morning.

 

            It had taken several long weeks but their migration finally ended off the coast of Africa. Here was the warmth he had been promised, his blood singing with the rightness of the place. He had known that they, the mer, had animals that looked like them, but for the first time he saw an average Great White. It was an unsettling experience. Its body was familiar to him, something he had seen and even owned, but the head was another story. A conical snout with beady black eyes held seven rows of teeth. Their jaws extended whenever they took fatal bites. They lacked clans, instead living in small families that only interacted when feeding off of large carcasses. Here he could see the patterns of dominance that he knew of, their hierarchy arranged by size. But no matter the size of the mer, they came out on top, the sharks recognizing that these were things that could kill and eat them whenever they pleased. 

 

            While he adjusted to these new surroundings, his parents spent more time with him than they had before. He knew that they had something to tell him. Sure enough, one day they pulled him aside, hands threaded together, and told him that he would have siblings. His feelings on this were complicated. On one hand he was glad, pleased to have his family grow larger and gain a companion, but on the other he was worried that he might not like them and wondered how this would affect their own familial balance. Should one be a Vona they would naturally have power over him.

 

            One way or another it was happening. His mother's tail only grew rounded toward the end. She often encouraged him to put a hand on it and feel the movements within. It was wonderful. His previous concerns seemed silly now, and he looked forward to meeting his siblings whenever they came. As the older sibling he already felt a need to protect them.

 

            And then tragedy struck. His mother woke them one morning with cries of agony, writhing and flipping onto her back as she called for them. It was too soon. Something was terribly wrong. They soothed her as best they could, but as she gave birth to several stillborns there was nothing they could do. It was excruciating for all of them. Just as it was accepted that all of the pups were lost, she gave a final cry and out popped a blinking girl, tiny, only three feet in length. Had she been born in the Baltic Sea she would have died.

 

            As it was she was cradled between the three of them, all overjoyed. Staring down into wide, innocent eyes, Hannibal's heart squeezed with love. He vowed silently that he would not lose her, that he would keep her safe. She latched onto one of his fingers with small hands and smiled. This was the center of his world. This was his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Baby sharks are called pups, which is just plain adorable. They also really do eat the others in certain species, Great Whites included. They're ovoviviparous! When born, the pups are already fully capable of living alone and swim away from the mother. Sorry if starting with birth was weird for anyone, but it was weird to write it too. :|
> 
> Here's a [link](http://h2g2.com/edited_entry/A15854952) to a bunch of cool information about Great Whites and the behavioral patterns I mentioned. Migrations are also a real thing, but they would never survive in the Baltic Sea. The mer can because, like humans, they're highly adaptive. If anyone has any questions or wants something explained, feel free to ask me!
> 
> Sorry if this chapter was kind of dull, but it's more informative than anything and spans several years. Next time there will be dialogue and more of a present feeling.


	10. Shark Skin - II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, there's nothing like procrastinating an important project due in three days to give me inspiration for writing. Don't be like me, kids. Put school before fics. Save yourselves. In the meantime, here's more mer adventures! Still unbeta-ed. Enjoy...?

***

 

            The shiver of Great Whites moved in tandem with them, all silent predators tracking elusive prey, each nose, whether shark or mer, attuned to the faintest particle of blood. On most of these brief hunting expeditions Hannibal would take the lead and guide the small group of young mer and sharks, but now he hung back toward the middle, allowing another to take his place for today. The reason for this was simple. It would be Mischa's first time chasing this kind of prey.

 

            A glance to the right confirmed that she was still by his side, short golden locks shifting back as they swam. He studied her face, still round with baby fat that wouldn't be shed for several more years. Her beautiful brown eyes, normally soft with affection and gentleness, were sharp and clear as she stared ahead. Though she was six years younger than him, she was a Vona and quickly approaching his size. Still, no matter how much bigger she grew, she was his precious sister and he would protect her with everything he had, just as he had sworn five years ago. Her personality was naturally docile unlike his own. Even now he could see that she was nervous, hands clenched at her sides.

 

            Gliding closer, he brushed her fin with his, smiling his reassurance when she glanced to him. "Ready?"

 

            Her answering smile was small, yet genuine. "Mmhm." They swam in silence for a few more minutes before he heard her voice again. "Annibal, what's it like?" Behind the obvious curiosity was a tinge of hesitation.

 

            Chuckling, he took her hand in his and squeezed. "Well, the seals are bigger than most fish. You have to approach from below and take them by surprise, and even then they can slip away. They are vocal as well, easier to track that way, but in the water they are swift and quiet. The taste of their fur might be off putting at first. However, the meat underneath is delicious and rich with fat."

 

            She considered his words with a small frown, nodding along seriously. Up to this point she had only chased schools of fish and snatched the occasional bird from where it rested on top of the waves. He thought back to his first time hunting seals, an entirely different experience to the one they would have now. Thick sheets of ice had made it much more challenging, giving his prey an area to escape to. It was only due to group coordination and well planned timing that they had chased some into open waters further from shore. The memory of sinking his teeth into pliant flesh had his mouth watering. No matter how different these hunting trips were, he hoped that Mischa would feel a similar sense of enjoyment. It would be nice to have her join him in the future.

 

            All at once he smelled it. Ahead of them, a tiny drop of blood seeped through the water. With his nose being sensitive even for a mer shark, he knew that the others had yet to notice. Just as he was about to send word to the Vonus at the front, the scent exploded outward and continued to grow. A huge amount of blood had been spilled into the sea.

 

            Already the Great Whites were leaving them behind, driven forward by instinct rather than intelligence. They had no qualms with separating, only following the mer because they were superior hunters and didn't mind sharing. The remaining members of their group watched them go. With their own minds screaming for them to follow the trail, they were all visibly restraining themselves from doing just that.

 

            "Annibal, why's it smell like this?" Mischa's eyes met his, wide with hunger, and her grip on his hand tightened.

 

            At this point he could feel the eyes of the others as well. They were looking to him for guidance without thought, automatically assuming he would take his usual position of leadership. He would. But for now they were ignored in favor of answering Mischa's question. 

 

            "I am not sure. But I can think of three possibilities. Another shark, a loner perhaps, may have killed a large seal on its own. We might find a whale carcass instead." At his words several of the mer licked their lips, no doubt imagining a potential feast. The steel in his tone as he continued drew them back in. "...Or, most likely, we are being baited."

 

            This was hardly the first time he would encounter such a thing. These waters were well known for their massive quantities of Great Whites, mer _and_ shark, and had become a popular location for humans to do foolish things to try to interact with them. Several times their groups would catch an alluringly bloody scent only to find a boat and mere scraps floating on the surface. Even more aggravating, humans in strange black skins and masks would stare at them from small cages, taking out boxes and pointing them while they made clicks. Occasionally one would even dare to reach out and try to touch them or their hair. Depending on the mer, they were either ignored or grievously injured. The only reason they bothered to investigate these abnormally large scents was to be sure they weren't missing an actual feast.

 

            Now the Vonus he had allowed to lead, Audra, approached him, a frown on her face. "It could be that... Should we look into it?"

 

            He gave it some thought, but the decision came easily enough. "...No, I do not believe that is necessary. This level of blood is highly suspicious."

 

            "It is, but it might be worth it to check. We could split into two, or send some scouts ahead..."

 

            "No." He repeated it firmly, knowing that she would listen. "Investigating this will take up time and energy that could be better spent on something other than a small chance. We should continue with our hunt."

 

            For a tense moment she simply stared at him, hands balling into fists. Audra was a few years older than him and a bit longer, and several of the smaller mer shifted nervously at the rising tension. Hannibal met her eyes and stared back, calm and unimpressed. They both knew who would win in a fight regardless of size. And he would not tolerate a useless challenge to his authority. 

 

            Finally her shoulders slumped, allowing everyone to relax. "Okay. You're right, we'll-"

 

            It hit all of them at once, even stronger than the scent of blood. Something was calling them, connecting to something deep inside in the same way that the ocean did. Every head turned to the side, staring in the direction the sharks had disappeared. A few tails twitched with the strain of holding themselves in place. Even worse, the tug was getting stronger. This was... Odd. Hannibal didn't like it.

 

            Turning to Mischa, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped, not easing up until she had looked away. The younger mer were looking more dazed than those who were closer to his age, gazing with wonder rather than mistrust or even fear. 

 

            Now that he had gotten her attention he swam back from the group, ignoring her tiny whimper at moving away from the strange force. "Mischa. Mischa, I need you to listen, okay?" She nodded, recognizing his seriousness. "I want you to go back to Mother and Father. Tell them what is happening. Please, I am worried that this is not safe." At first he thought she might protest, even leaning around him to watch that same direction, but finally she peeked up and nodded again.

 

            His relief at the sight of her retreating was enough to make him sigh. It was incredibly short lived. He had sent her away just in time, the pull suddenly spiking and driving all other thoughts from his head. It felt so nice, so warm. Unfamiliar sounds that could have been words were whispered into his thoughts, breaking them up into a pleasant haze. He struggled to piece them together, knowing that this was wrong, but couldn't remember why anymore and stopped. They pushed him forward with the rest, all peacefully drifting in a daze. He couldn't get close enough, couldn't get enough of this in general. 

 

            Some part of his rational mind remained though, telling him to snap out of this and flee. He latched onto this part and shielded it, slowly coming back to himself from a mental standpoint but unable to control his body. The feeling of warmth and safety continued to grow stronger. It was like a drug, a dangerous addiction, and he dreaded the thought of what could be making him feel this way even as he fought to understand why. His brain had turned on him. It was hopeless to fight back. Why resist? Why not give in? Why not end his worries and rela-

 

            _No_. As a huge boat came into view, he realized that they had finally caught up to the sharks. Just as he had suspected, there was no whale or seal, only bait. None of this mattered though. He needed to get closer, to go right up to the side of the boat. It was safe ( _no_ ), and he could trust this ( _do not trust anything here_ ). The other sharks were fine ( _they are not the ones to worry about_ ), so why wouldn't he be ( _this is dangerous_ )?

 

            A row of humans stood at the side of the ship, several holding large nets ( _you need to leave_ now). A man at the center held his attention; he couldn't look away from his smiling face and open arms ( _run_ ). He beckoned to him slowly ( _RUN_ ). Surely it couldn't hurt to come a little closer... ( ** _RUN!_** )

 

            All at once the power over them was gone. Too late, he tried to swim away. Nets flew down and tangled around them, missing some of the mer who fled in terror while others were caught, squirming and shrieking. One had fallen directly on top of him. He felt the coarse rope tighten and dig into his skin. Thrashing, he tried to bite through it, but another mer fell against him and knocked it from his teeth as they were slowly hoisted out of the sea like common fish. Around him the other nets were also being drawn in, his later than the others. Some had disappeared over the side already. He instinctively knew they would not be seen again.

 

            His net neared the top and a hand reached out to grab it, right by his face. He found it was the man from earlier. Now that his head was clear he could see the truth of his smile, really a sneer, and eyes gleaming with cruelty. A fat finger reached in and prodded at his cheek while he spoke to another human. A terrible rage grew within his chest when there was ugly laughter in response. The man saw this and stepped away.

 

            His severed finger was still in Hannibal's teeth.

 

            The man screamed loudly and clutched at his bleeding hand white Hannibal chewed slowly. There was too little meat and too much bone. It was disgusting, but he hadn't done it for the taste. Locking eyes with the man, he swallowed in one smooth motion and smiled, knowing that blood stained his lips a bright red.

 

            Now the man was furious. Reaching for the net once more, this time with the opposite hand, he leaned out over the side. He never touched the rope. Something flew up between them in a spray of saltwater, latching onto his arm and tearing it away before falling back down with a mighty splash. At the same time something had leapt up and severed the rope holding up the net. It was a painful shock to crash back down into the ocean, but a welcome one compared to what could have been.

 

            Familiar hands ripped the net away, all of them free. He saw several other nets receiving similar treatment before being crushed to a warm chest. His hands rose to circle his mother as she wept into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into her back. He felt at peace. _This_ was what it meant to be safe.

 

            Her voice was muffled when she spoke. "What?"

 

            She pulled back a bit, eyes roaming over his face while a hand cupped his cheek. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" Her eyes hardened at the thought.

 

            "No, but I hurt one of them."

 

            A momentary look of pride cut through her worry only to be replaced with a heavy weariness. Gently, she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing the locks back to place a kiss on his forehead. "I was so..." She trailed off, giving him another kiss.

 

            Another voice rose when hers failed her. "Hannibal!" His father rushed in from the side, pulling them both into his arms, spitting the man's out of his mouth. Tiny tendrils of the man's blood reached him now. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but there was something... unusual about the taste, something in the saltiness that resembled the ocean more than anything he had ever tasted from something's veins, even other mer. His confusion only grew when his father gritted out a strange sentence. "They used a Lost Child."

 

            "Oh no." She looked horrified, clutching him to the point of discomfort. "They were so young, they never even stood a chance."

 

            "Father..." At the sound of his voice, both seemed to start. "What is a 'Lost Child'?"

 

            "I'll explain everything, I promise, but we must leave. The humans will try to stop us if we wait any longer."

 

            As the boat dwindled in size behind him, his thoughts were racing in his head. Every question was carefully filed away for later, though he didn't know how much later they would be needed. Luckily enough it was only held off until they had reached the clan.

 

The other young mer were also with their families, large groups gathered around their children like they might still be in danger of being taken away. In other areas, families wept bitterly. He thought back to the nets taken onto the deck and he knew. Their children hadn't been saved.

 

            With a final squeeze on his shoulder, his father grew even more solemn and broke away. "There has been a great tragedy today." At his voice, most of the families quieted, looking up with tearstained faces of joy or pain. "And a preventable one. We should have been more careful, taught our young more about the dangers of the world. Their ignorance has carried a terrible cost. The poachers used a Lost Child."

 

            Several gasps broke out, all eyes widening. Hannibal took this in, adding it to his understanding of what had occurred. They were disgusted, horrified, afraid.

 

            "We did not teach our children about the threat humans can pose, and in this we have failed them. Now, of all times, it is our duty to explain. To those of you who have your child once again, please, let them know of the dangers they face. And for those of you who lost a child, know that we offer our support as you grieve."

 

            His father turned back to them and the other families began whispering quietly amongst themselves, huddling into tiny circles. Watching a young Vona pull Audra into an embrace, Hannibal became alarmed. His head whipped to from side to side as he quickly scanned the crowd. "Where is Mischa?"

 

            Noting the worry in his eyes, his mother gave him a one armed hug. "She's safe, it's all right. Mischa came back and told us what happened, so we went to rescue you. She should still be here."

 

            As if on cue, Mischa broke free of a gap in the crowd and raced toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his shoulder. "Annibal!"

 

            "Mischa." He breathed the words into her hair. They left him alongside his anxiety. They were safe. _She_ was safe. Again he felt utter relief that he had asked her to leave.

 

            Once they had broken apart, Hannibal's father cleared his throat. "Earlier, you asked me what a Lost Child is." Both children gave him their full attention. Hannibal was eager to put a meaning to the strange title.

 

            "Before I explain this, I would like to tell you what those humans were doing. We have already told you that humans have laws that are meant to stop them from hunting us. However, some go against these laws and hunt us anyway, using ships with large nets to pull us out of the sea. They are called poachers. Just as we eat what we catch, they do the same. They also take our scales and our bones as trophies. We know this because of the occasional escape, but it is very rare to get away safely." He paused, eyes lingering on Hannibal.

 

            "The pull you were feeling is... harder to explain. Every human has a connection with their surroundings. Just as the sea gives itself to us and connects with us deeply, the world does the same for them. There are Children of the Sand, Children of the Sky, Children of the Sun, and even Children of the Sea. These are the most common for the humans. However, there are others as well. Children of the Wave, Children of the Abyss, Children of the Wind, Children of the Rain. Many, many more. Eventually you will learn to pick out which ones they are by their scent. All are unique, but humans are the Children of two things so you will have to learn to separate them as well. Each of these sections of the world share their bounties with the humans they have chosen. And to give thanks, the humans naturally give back in return."

 

           "So... was the man a Child of the Sea? Does a Child of the Sea help the ocean?" Hannibal furrowed his brow, struggling to understand these vague descriptions. It didn't make much sense. None of those things were alive, so how could they share or receive anything?

 

            His father was quiet for a moment, knowing that he was confused. When he finally spoke again it was more deliberate, coming out slowly. "The Children do not help what they are connected to, but rather the other things connected to it. So no, Children of the Sea do not directly help the ocean, but they do help those who live in it. Children of the Sea have a very strong effect on us because we are the most intelligent creatures in the ocean, the most similar to them. Our lives are deeply swayed by our connection to the sea and their presence amplifies this, making one feel alive and energized. This is why it was so difficult for you to resist the man calling you to the boat. While he was a Child of the Sea, he was also something else."

 

            "A Lost Child." He watched his father nod, glancing to his mother.

 

            Now she began to explain. "There aren't many mer who know of the Lost Children, though it's commonly known that the humans are all some form of Child. I cannot tell you much about them until a later point in your life. There's a certain rite of passage you must take into adulthood before you will understand. Just know that they are Children of the Sea who are different from the others, and that the ocean's calls for them are much stronger than the rest. This makes their calls for _us_ stronger as well."

 

            He thought back to their trip to the boat. It was horrible to know that something could hold that much power over him. He hated it. "Is there a way to resist?"

 

            "Yes, but it happens gradually. Over time their grasp on you weakens as you gain your own strength. Of course, how much you can resist is different for everyone. With you I'm sure it won't be a problem." She ran a hand over his hair with a smile. Then grew serious. "Hannibal, when I heard you had been taken I was so scared. I know that you don't like to show weakness, but I want you to avoid the humans when you can. Will you promise me?" Searching his eyes, she held her breath.

 

            "...I promise." He didn't want to, but at his mother's sigh of relief he knew he had made the right choice.

 

            That night was spent quietly, a somber mood in the air. The families in mourning were still sad, parents without any other children hit especially hard. It was discussed and then mutually agreed that this migration was over. The next morning they set off for home. Hannibal was sad to leave behind the pleasant waters and newfound Great Whites that had become decent companions, but he knew it was for the best and didn't look back.

 

            None of them noticed the boat following their clan, not far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the mer, the ocean is heavily personified. They worship the sea for providing everything they need. It's almost like a religion, which would make Hannibal essentially an atheist as he doesn't feel this way and only sees a body of water (though he does appreciate it and find it beautiful). Humans are pitied for their loss of a direct connection with their elements, but the Children of the Sea especially.
> 
> Also, here's a little more information about poaching in this universe from a short conversation in the comments with WendigoHanni:
> 
> About size, here's a neat little fun fact that I probably won't get to squeeze in anywhere: the reason they had to create protection laws in the 1800s was because of people fishing them out and eating them... Especially the larger ones. So the biggest mer are now really hard to find because they don't trust humans at all. o - o"
> 
> As always, if there are any questions feel free to ask!
> 
> Edit: Just so it's clear, if someone's a Child of the ---, it's just referring to their attribute. So a Child of the Sea is a human with a water attribute, Child of the Sand for earth/rock, Child of the Sun for fire, etc.

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://visceralviscaria.tumblr.com/)


End file.
